(Set before the OH challenge obvs)

Winter does touch the Oasis as much as it does the rest of Amaryllis - yes, it gets colder, but the heat of the desert is stronger than the snow and rain that comes down. Scorpius enjoys the winter in Andal.

And it seems someone else is enjoying his pride without a real reason to be here.

Scorpius had seen her around, often shadowed by one of Alexander’s sons. There’d been some mention of a fight, but he wasn’t clear on the details. And he wants them, especially if Lucanus had pissed someone off and the consequences were going to come down on Andal for it. He calls for @Caltáriel, coming to sprawl by the water and wait for her, hopefully without her constant guardian so he can get to the bottom of this without the Savante foaming at the mouth for looking at her.

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She did not know how long she had been here. Only a few days, sure; she could recall each night nestled closer and closer to Lucanus, unwilling to decide when it was the best time to return home. Her wounds had long healed, her gentle moans and groans for more medicines enticed only by the idea that it justified her staying. But as the days continued onward, she found herself more and more conflicted, and more and more unable to hide.

It had been easy to remain in his den, at first, but the close living quarters of a territory with far too many lions and far too little oasis made it nearly impossible to find a moment to breathe. Thus, Caltáriel eventually had to be found out; and there was perhaps not a single soul in Andal who had not seen her pale, doe-eyed expression; and the fading scent of Illyria woven into her pelt.

When the King called for her, Lucanus was nowhere to be found. She'd been sniffing about just outside his den, careful of any passersby who may find her presence suspicious. As @Scorpius' call echoed through the Oasis, she froze; her heart fluttered, raging against her chest with a rhythmic beat. Skittish, wide-eyed, and pouty, Caltáriel walked far too slow and contemplatively until his striped silhouette took shape against the distant blue sky.

A shy, guilty smile spreads across her lips.

He is not kept waiting long; @Caltáriel slides into view, eyes wide and a sheepish smile across her pretty face. Clearly aware of her own crimes, such as they are. He isn’t exactly irritated by her presence, but rather the lack of communication about it. That is entirely on Lucanus, however.

"Welcome to Andal Oasis," the king regards the interloper for a moment, half waiting for her ever-present bodyguard to show up, but apparently he is elsewhere. His tail flicks at his side, and Scorpius motions for the lioness to come closer - sit, if she’d like.

"Are you going to introduce yourself?" He asks finally, a single brow lifting over his narrowed, red eye.

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@Scorpius seems neither elated nor disturbed by her presence, and Caltáriel had chided herself for not introducing herself properly before. What would have been a mere night's stay had turned into days, her wounds having long begun to heal nicely but her heart yearning for more. And while she had kept herself cozy in Lucanus' den, her continued presence would eventually warrant some concern (and, at the very least, she'd yet to send so much as a raven back to Illyria stating where she'd been). Perhaps it is this meeting that will finally correct Caltáriel's course.

Surely, Morrigan was worried sick. If she wasn't, perhaps she was angry.

Thank you, she responded sweetly, her girlish brows knitting as an apologetic concern sprawled across her face. Long had the scent of Illyria began to fade, and unknowing to Caltáriel, the laws of the land had broken her tethers to the Summit the same way it had to Caladan, now that it had fallen. My name is Caltáriel Greyflood. Lucanus rescued me from a Caladan lion who sought to steal me into his pride, she says, matter-of-factly. There were few things she'd learned as Illyria's Lead Advisor—being pleasant and honest was the best advantage she could have.

I was only supposed to be here for a night, but... A soft blush unfurled across her cheeks, and she avoided her gaze. I suppose I've overstayed my welcome.

Greyflood isn't a name he is unfamiliar with. A brow lifts over his eye, and Scorpius regards the woman with a keener focus. He notes the mention of Caladan again - they're becoming an issue, it would seem.

"You're related to Morrigan Greyflood?" He asks, a tilt of his head. He'd never met the sovereign himself, but his father had been allies with the family - the Greyflood, Sigrun and Valour all were mixed together through blood. Last he knew, all were on good terms with the Miroslav.

"Lucanus saved you, so there is no overstaying a welcome. If you are staying, however, I'll welcome you officially to the Oasis for the time being." He feels that's fair, all things considered. "When you're ready to return home or join Lucanus in the Hollows when the move is complete, we can arrange that."

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An expression of pleasant surprise unfurls across her face as @Scorpius mentions Morrigan. Her tail lashes out behind her, a near-doggish wag that contains the excitement that would have otherwise sent a broad smile across her lips. Instead, only one corner of her mouth tugs upward, half-parted, eyes wide. Yes, she says, her voice surprisingly level given the girlish giddiness written in her every movement, She's my cousin. And though Caltáriel had come from the side of their family that had lived a more peaceful and amicable life, she had seen her fair share of war since arriving here, and had hardened from her days spent on those golden rolling hills worrying about nothing more than what and when their next meal would be.

Of course, the weight of the challenge that had just occurred did not quite register with her. The Sigrun and the Greyflood were one of the oldest Amaryllisian allies. Now that hung in the balance.

Caltáriel nods her head at his proposition; long had the scent of Illyria begun to fade. And though she'd no true intentions of leaving Morrigan, the notion of remaining with Lucanus had been one so appealing she hadn't quite been ready to return. At the very least, she figured—I just have one request: Could I tell Morrigan where I am? I was her Lead Advisor—best I let her know I'm safe and she can start finding my replacement. Certainly, the Illyrian Queen would wonder where her cousin was spirited away to, and the last time Caltáriel had been seen outside the Oasis, she had been crushed and pulled away by Caladan's Gentry. She wondered if Morrigan weren't already sending patrols to the Cove looking for her.

Thank you for your hospitality...erm... She cleared her throat, averting her gaze. She couldn't remember if she'd caught his name.

@Caltáriel, a cousin of Morrigan. Scorpius lacks his own cousins - that he’s aware of - but assumes the family must be close. What little he knows of the Greyfloods and their extended kin, their bonds are tight.

The king’s brows knit together at her polite request. "You are not a prisoner here." That’s your other character, Cala. "Tell Morrigan she is welcome to collect you herself, or send someone else. You’re being part of the Oasis is for your protection - if the Caladan lion knows you’re under mine and Lucanus’s protection, you’re safer. I would send you home with an escort, but I cannot afford to spare useful paws." Not at the moment, anyway. With so many cubs and mouths to feed, work here is needed before he can extend resources. As much as Caltáriel might wish to go home, Scorpius’s priority is his pride first.

A rueful sort of smile breaks across Scorpius's face. "Besides, I do not want have to explain to your Lucanus why I’ve let you run off up the mountain alone." No, thank you.

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She knew, however strange and bold and foolish it was to linger here under the King's nose, that she was at least not completely in trouble; not enough to be labeled a prisoner, of course (much unlike cala's other character indeed), but hearing it aloud helped to ease what lingering nerves there were, what girlish embarrassment that came with being metaphorically caught with her pants down. She nodded in understanding at @Scorpius' statement, knowing well that the challenge had worn on the pride and him both, and he would be needed to bolster their borders rather than worrying about one wayward Greyflood who had slipped into the bed of one of their soldiers.

Oh, it felt so delightfully thrilling to think that.

It's alright, if I stay to the north and travel through Vermeda, I can get there safely, she pondered, though knew she'd likely have to skirt around Wolfbron through the Badlands. Perhaps she could convince Lucanus to take her that far, though she had no doubt he might insist to take her the rest of the way. I'll let Morrigan know of your hospitality, she then continued, allowing the plush fur of her breast to puff out, as if somehow proud of herself for potentially forging diplomatic ties because she was horny for one Savante. I'm sure she wouldn't mind me helping to fortify the borders and keeping your lions fed while you heal?

"No." The word comes short, clipped, and leaves no room for argument. The very mention of the Brook sets Scorpius on edge, and being reminded that the Summit and Vermeda are on good terms is irritating. He has a potential hostage here, in @Caltáriel, but his darling sister wants to try things her way before they make any rash decisions, as she’d put it. It is Leonie and his father’s longstanding alliance with the Sigrun that has kept Scorpius’s temper in check. Besides, having Lucanus’s woman here willingly is easier to manage than another prisoner. "As I said, your safety is important."

But she goes on, offering to remain while he heals, and the boy king’s blistered face relaxes slightly. "It would be appreciated," he allows. "It would certainly be mentioned when I do meet with your cousin." One way or another, when Leonie is done with her political game, it will be Scorpius’s turn. Whether with an army at his heels or bearing the terms of a proper alliance, it is entirely up to them.

"We're in need of a lead ranger, currently." He offers as a sort of truce, or proof she is trusted - for now - within Andal.

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She blinks—once, twice. The resoluteness with which @Scorpius commands her immediately causes her to tense, but not out of fear; instead, the gravity of his word registers quickly, and she suddenly knows that she is not going to passage through the Brook in order to get to the Summit on her own. She would have to bide her time. She'd not known the gravity behind the challenge, the implications that it had been her own family's longest, strongest ally that had ambushed Scorpius in the middle of the night. Such transgressions were lost on the sweet Caltáriel, but she accept his disagreement without protest.

The way he eases with her suggestion relaxes her, soothing the fur around her neck that had stood to attention at his initial response. And as he offers her the position of Lead Ranger, a small smile replaces the otherwise neutral (and half-surprised) expression she'd had before. Thank you, she responds, both her genuine thankfulness that news would eventually reach her cousin, as well as acceptance of the rank. Certainly, Caltáriel would feel much better if she could pay forward the kindness she'd taken without asking.

She hopes, at the very least, that being closer to Lucanus would be an added bonus.

I'll get to work, then! She finally relents, allowing whatever unease dwelled within her to dissipate, clinging to the hope that Morrigan would know where she was, and that she was happy and healthy; and try and revel and learn from her time spent outside the Summit for as long as she could.

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Exit Caltáriel.