the northern daughter had gone home again. but her home wasn't the icy permanence of the north or the haunted spirit woods of the south. ninny ( as oft some called her ) had no home. home to her would be something both tangible and intangible, a piece of cloth that folds between her ribcage, a shelter that could weather through both brute force and nature's wrath.

or—

there was the possibility that such a home never existed. her head had yet resurfaced from the haze of her lost memories and all she conjured - all she ever wanted - teetered on the precipice of fantasy. thus, ninny had made an effort to come here for - oh, was it really? - the first time. here, others would offer ninny a home; and here, ninael could hope, may hope, to find a place that could wedge itself inside her bones and finally, finally, tether herself to it.

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Home was indeed a curious concept.

If it was to be defined as the place in which one was born, then Mircea's home was lost to him, torn away by war and plague. Perhaps it was as simple as wherever one happened to be living at any given time. It might be, and yet the Savante knows that in some ways, this land would always be foreign to him, no matter how well he got to know it.

But when he was in the company of those he cherished most...Yes, the beast felt very much at home, indeed. Even in those moments when the hungry darkness shuddering beneath his threatened to ruin him.

So maybe that is why Mircea has never felt overly troubled by the task of recruiting, tedious though this back-and-forth journey to the Passage might be. The offer of a 'home' is a heavy thing, but there were always those who were in need of it. Whether or not @Nínael was one such creature is something of a different question - but one that should be easy enough to answer.

"Greetings, miss." The dappled beast would approach her with plodding steps, his often low-hanging head rising to study the young woman before him with an unreadably, copper gaze. "Is there something you seek?"

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the first thing ninael noticed was his masked face. ah, no, or rather the splash of paleness that shaped a mask-like marking on him. he was the only one who came, the only one who so much greeted ninael. did this country lose half of its population? how strange! how awful!

well, no matter. ninael now had an option to go somewhere. except—

hello dear sir, my name is ninael and i am indeed searching for a home ninael said. she sat down onto her haunches and placed one paw over the other. the gleam of her abyssal fur quivered in the wind and hungering for shelter. tell me, what is your home like? she couldn't smell much off of him, nothing that suggested a forest of an ocean pride. @Mircea_{BG: UNSPLASH — ART: MUNK — CODE}

It is rather rare for this place to be so silent. The Savante has grown used to the sandbar overflowing with a tangled quilt of scents woven from every corner of the land, the salty air stirred by many different voices, vying always for attention. Today, however, the paws that disturb the sand are his own, and the stranger's before him.

Well. The day was still young. Might as well appreciate the lull while it lasted.

A home, indeed, is what the young traveler - @Nínael, he learns - seeks. The titan's skull dips in silent acknowledgement, as if he had expected no other answer. "Mircea Savante."

Copper eyes consider just how little of the woman there is beneath her layers of painted twilight, and he wonders, as he so often does, about the nature of the circumstances that pull so many lives into this place. His words, however, are deemed better spent on answers about the future rather than questions of the past. For the time being, at least. "Obsidian Hollow is my home. It lies at the mountain's heart, within a cavern system my family has protected for years, now." His head tilted slightly towards the jagged peaks rising above the horizon. "We strive to maintain...Stability. Prosperity. Peace. We respect and care for each other like family." The beast blinks then, his honeyed gaze subtly gleaming with new intensity as he poses a question of his own.

"Would you be willing to commit to such a thing?" A pride can only function when they all work towards the same goals, after all.

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ninael followed @Mircea's movements, what little there was. though ninael had nothing to be afraid, that much she ought to tell herself. it was just the vastness of this land, this need to be high amongst the trees that she yearned for. when the man spoke of obsidian hollows, ninael recalled a dark, dark place. she was a creature sculpted for the shadows and the smaller spaces, a woman befitting more of tunnels and caves than an open land. this should be perfect. except all she wanted was the beach pride again, to see tinuviel and embrace her one more time.

she cleared her throat, feeling her pulse quickening. what we all want she said, agreeing with him. mircea ended his response with like family, though ninael wasn't sure how to think about that. though, it did stir her heart a little, as the possibility of finding one was attractive. i can commit so long as nothing is needed from me in terms of- she stopped and tried to figure out why she stopped. truth was, she didn't know. -in terms of politics, yes, that i cannot do._{BG: UNSPLASH — ART: MUNK — CODE}

'What we all want', is it?

Mircea is not naive enough to imagine such a thing to be true. He knows it to be false, in fact. He's seen the faces of monstrous beasts who sustained themselves by feeding on the very essence of chaos itself. (He too, knows the taste of chaos - the dangerous thrill that quickened his blood nothing else ever could.)

But @Nínael does not possess the face of the monster. At least, the Savante would like to think that he could sense the acrid tang of venom where it lingered beneath pretty masks.

Where just this woman is involved, she may indeed speak truth.

But there is a caveat it seems, and he watches and waits as she searches for the words, a silent gargoyle offering neither encouragement nor judgement, though he is expectant all the same. But the stipulation, when it finally comes, coaxes only a low huff from the beast, his throat humming with the beginnings of a chuckle. "You and me both." The intricate game of politics is one best left in his brother's capable paws, as far as Mircea is concerned. The war horse need only be told where his strength is needed.

"There are ranks open if you wish to work towards them, but you are under no obligation to seek out extra responsibilities you do not want." There is no shame in knowing where one does not belong.

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ranks ninny spoke it like it was a misshapen thing that she was trying to give shape to. she had not known much of the pride hierarchy as a guest in the lagoon, only that there was a leader - a high sovereign - and the lions beneath her. she knew not the responsibiliries that she must be burdened with to have such ranks. this was all so...strange, but also fascinating.

thank you for the information ninny said, her green eyes flashing with growing interest. she took a step forward, a wordless 'show me the way' directed at @Mircea. i would not cause much trouble for you- ah, no - our fellow lions. with that, ninny's tail flicked and her head raised as she prepared to follow the male to her new home. [exit]_{BG: UNSPLASH — ART: MUNK — CODE}

She repeats the word back to him with a surprisingly lack of grace for a single syllable, as if it was completely foreign upon her tongue. Maybe it was. Mircea will not judge. Even now, it would be a lie to say that he never misses the days that the common dialect was not quite so...common to him. Yet it was a price easily paid for the promise of a hopeful future.

But if Nínael truly possessed any lingering unfamiliarity with the language of the land, she does a fine job disguising it, gratitude and eager promises both bubbling brightly from her lips as she steps forwards. "...I'm sure."

This woman was a curious one, wasn't she? In more ways than one.

Regardless, the Savante would eventually dip his head, accepting of her acceptance, before he stepped away to grant her the space to follow him home. "If you have more questions, you are free to ask."

Looks like the Hollow will be that much livelier by today's end.

/exit Mircea

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