He had found himself in rather a random place that evening, as the sun started to fall back into it's bed and the air grew cold with winter. Upon the peak, every breath of wind felt as though it could reach ones bones; frigid and sharp like blades against flesh.

He didn't particularly like the cold, and yet he would stay, because there was the quiet smell of somebody that captured his attention. Lumbering strides, less tainted by his mostly healed limp, wandering almost aimlessly over hardened loam. "@Ghyslaine?" he sought her, life had been chaotic, and he was rather looking forward to confiding easily into the company of a friend.

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Ghyslaine

Standing there on the edge of the peak, she could see the entire land. She somehow felt like she could feel how insignificant she was. An ant among a field. Ghyslaine had struggled with the aftermath of the war. She had always hoped that when she had to fight and witness something like that- that she would somehow be stronger and faster. Better. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of herself- she was. She had come far in her fighting skills though she still had much to learn.

It’s just that at the end of the day, she hadn’t expected war to come to her home. To take away that safety that she had once felt. To take away that sense of security.

When she scented him, his scent carried on the breeze that blew through the air she smiled reflexively. Perhaps there was little some time with her friend couldn’t fix. She had not had time to see him since his challenge and the war. Would he even recognize the beast she had become?

Her once shiny fur clung to every bone in her body- an obvious sign that she wasn’t ok. She wasn’t eating more than she had to to just simply stay alive. Ghyslaine was a mess, but perhaps with @Violarum she could let her troubles go- even just for a moment and breath in the sense of security and warmth that their friendship brought her.

“Violarum.” She would turn to greet him, to look him over and see how he was healing with a smile.

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She reveals herself eventually, and from front-on a beast as unobservant as he could not notice much had changed. Perhaps, aside from the quiet smell of blood and healing wounds, but that had become as familiar as mud in recent weeks. He, too wore that scent, yet his leg had mostly recovered - instead, he now sported a poulticed facial wound, courtesy of a once-was lover.

Yet as the familiar pair draw nearer to one another, Violarum halts - not greeting the wheat woman woman as he usually would, with animation. She has changed. "You look bad," he emphasizes, noting the way her muscles dipped between each vertebrae and her ribs curved like tree limbs. "Are you sick?" @Ghyslaine was usually a picture of health, feminine and strong and glossy. Today, she looks a sad shadow of herself.

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Ghyslaine

She was ashamed of herself, the way that she couldn't seem to heal what darkness ailed her own mind. She had lost a part of herself in the chaos of battle, but surely she hadn't lost the most. @Violarum doesn't greet her with the same physical rough-housing he normally bestows on her, and she feels a flicker of disappointment that she hadn't expected from the the loss of that.

His words... She blinked slowly, before shaking her head. As she would speak, "I'm not-" She broke off, clearing her throat before continuing. "Not sick. I just... I don't want to bore you." She broke off- looking away from him for a moment, before her eyes would travel over her friend. "Are you healing well?" She really didn't know who he had fought, and what had became of him- other than his body wasn't left there, so surely he was alive. How had she allowed so many days to pass between the war and now, before checking on her friend? How had she been so caught up in her own misery.

"That was... that... was a lot." She said, speaking vaguely of the war. Her eyes narrowed as she took his face in, really looked at him. "Your.... what happened to your face?" Her voice sharpened a tad, ready to be defensive of her friend if he needed it. She couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear pass through her- what if the fighting wasn't over... had he been attacked by one of the Mire's enemies again?

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Violarum is not a sensitive man, and he cannot understand a mental illness having the same impact as a physical one. So, he is entirely puzzled by her mannerism, the way she had been reduced to... this. From her usual, strong self. Ghyslaine was always soft in a way, but her core seemed solid enough. Now, she seemed a shell.

Vaguely his head tilted, jaw unhinging to breathe her scent; a subconscious effort of absorbing any tell-tale signs of illness. There was nothing obvious. "Well why do you look sick?" he prods, not really able to read outside of the lines. He did know that something was up, and if he could bring himself to care for long enough, he intended to find out why.

If only Brynja was around. She might know.

"That was... that..." - Was fun! Is his first response, at least internally, @Ghyslaine finishing her own sentence before he could butt in. There is a perk to his body-language at the memory of war, the exhilarating rush of adrenaline like a drug - a high that any good man would seek again and again. Yet, he soon remembers Erna. Poor Erna.

"It was fun... but, Erna died," he says, his form shrinking, shoulders sagging like a saddened puppy. Erna had felt the beating heart of Ecrosia to Violarum, he would miss her. "I am good," he finally reveals, after a quiet moment of thought, lifting a forelimb to waggle it around - see, not broken anymore. "Um, Gunnhildr happened," there was so much to tell Ghyslaine, where did one start?

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Ghyslaine

She didn't know how to reply to her friend, and perhaps that was a first for the small lioness. "I haven't been eating much... I've never... I've never seen war." She admitted. Didn't know how brutal it would be. Didn't know how it would linger within her mind. "I haven't been able to sleep." She adds, looking down at her paws- ashamed of herself.

"I thought I was ready but... maybe I wasn't." She murmured, before looking up trying to catch his gaze. "I want to be a good fighter- strong... but I didn't find any fun in the war." She added, a blush creeping across her wheaten cheeks.

Ah Erna... Alaric's Queen. She felt a flicker of sadness run through her. Ghyslaine would never be able to prove herself to Erna. Honestly, she had been so wrapped up in her own mental anguish that she hadn't really gone out to check on her pride in the after-math of the loss. She had to do that.

"Gunnhildr?" She questioned, frowning, was this someone that had it out for @Violarum. She frowned, trying to remember anyone by that name that he had mentioned... but came up empty. She would sigh, sitting back on her haunches, wrapping her tail around her body. "Do we need to... kick their ass?" The words were foreign on her tongue, and she frowned while saying them... they were so out of character for her! But she tried to talk whatever lingo she thought Vio may appreciate, if nothing else- perhaps he'd chuckle and not see so... weird.

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Violarum squints at her response, his muzzle pushing upward in a silent pout. Was @Ghyslaine implying she had done something awful? Suddenly, he imagines she's accidentally murdered a cub or something - for that is all Vio can imagine he would be sorry and... not hungry for.

"I was extra hungry after the war," he says, almost like a child thinking out loud. "Did you do something bad?" curious, he suddenly remembers the golden woman fighting Antares and rising victorious. Something Violarum regrettably had not done, instead coming away from the pesky male with a broken limb. "You beat that Andal male, that was good," his ears perk, reminding himself he was proud of her.

Her saddened demeanor shifts however, and Vio would have usually found such a mannerism oddly contagious; prone to bcoming animated with such an exciting prospect. However, this time it's his turn to be mopey. "No, Gunnhildr was meant to be my lioness, but I love Fallon so she got mad," he hasn't told Ghys about any of this, it had all happened so fast.

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Ghyslaine

She doesn't know how to explain the strange hollowness she feels post the war. Ghyslaine had always wanted to be a warrior, but this feeling after... it sucked. Maybe there was something wrong with her- maybe she was somehow defective. Vio's words about being hungry made her laugh, and she can't help but shake her head. "I've had nightmares... I can't sleep. I know its silly... I've just never experienced something like that before." She explained, and probably explained it poorly- to be quite honest.

She can't help the small proud smile at Vio's words about defeating that Andal male. "I did do good with that, didn't I?" She said, offering him a half-smile. That reminded her that she needed to go check on Olive, that she needed to do something about that whole claiming mess, and then the challenge flashed in her mind and she spoke. "I didn't realize you were ready to challenge for a pride, to be king." She mused. "What happens when you take a throne next time?" She asks- curious... would she remain within the Mire or follow her friend.

She frowns at his words, taking in the names. Gunnhildr and Fallon and he loves Fallon... and she is confused. Who are either of those lionesses? "Wasn't the point of you becoming King... so that you could have many lionesses?" She asked- asking the question that first came to her mind. Wasn't that what he had once said? She wanted to ask a thousand questions about this lioness that he loved- Fallon was her name... And the other that was going to be his lioness... She muses silently. Was he so in love with this one lioness that he would give that dream of that kingdom up?

@Violarum

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Violarum hasn't had nightmares since he was a cub. Since his birth mother had abandoned him and his real mother had taken him under wing. He used to fear losing her, and it is only now that he remembers the severity of those dreams like flashbacks - how haunting they had been.

Did grown lions have nightmares too? A silent squint for a moment. Quite frankly, the clay male is not convinced - and decides internally to ask Brynja to look over Ghyslaine. Because she looked quite bad. Except, he hadn't seen Brynja since the war.

"I am always ready," he assures Ghylsaine, wanting her to know there would likely never be a point in his life that he didn't aspire to be King. In his mind, it was just a matter of being strong, winning a fight, and having enough friends to keep it all ticking over. Yet, he was oddly comfortable in The Mire, and life there was certainly easy.

He shrugs at her question, "I guess we'll find out." He had no arrangement with Alaric, and though there were many lions in the pride he had brought in himself, he doubts he will have any right to take any with him. Aside his mate perhaps. Alaric was old anyway. Maybe he'd just die one day and everyone could live with Vio. He'd like to have Ghyslaine, Brynja, Basura and Ambrose, at least.

"Yes," he responds to the wheat woman, and it is clear his mind runs off in deep thought. Ghyslaine had a good point, and Violarum hadn't really had time to think about his new path in life. It is a long few moments before he finally shrugs. "But there can't be any lioness better than Fallon - oh," he remembers something important, "Did you want to be my Wife?" Olive said you did.

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Ghyslaine

She stares at him, listening and waiting as she wonders about his search for a crown. He speaks, and she lets a soft smile grace her lips as she nods silently in answer to his statement. It’s her next question that gives her rather unsatisfactory answer.

If Violarum took a throne.. would Ghyslaine remain within the Mire? Violarum was the entire reason that she had joined the Mire to begin with. Sure, she had come to make some friends there- but they weren’t friends like Vio was. It was different with him than with her pride-mates. She frowns at his answer, but decides not to push it for now. She could wait and see what happened then- even if she was rather impatient and didn’t want to leave her future in limbo.

He looks pensive at her comment about his dreams of having many lionesses. Then he speaks, and she studies him with a softened expression. He did seem rather in love with this Fallon lioness- if he thought none could best her. Would he always feel that way- she had to wonder.

“I should like to meet her one day.” She said, “This Fallon who has captured your heart.” Gentle, honest words- words of a best friend.

His next question floors her.

Wife? Did she want to be his wife?

“W-what?” She stammers rather weakly as she stares at him with her jaw falling open- rather like a gaping fish.

@Violarum

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