Pallas had not returned to the Oasis - in so far as Victoria could tell, he had simply limped off the face of Amaryllis. At first, she had not been concerned - she had her own wounds to tend to and did not care if the boy rotted. He had attacked her after all - never mind that she had instigated it by her cold and callous words. He had struck the first blow and had been served justice (in her mind) for it. But as the days stretched and there was no sign of his scent crossing over the borders, Victoria could only conclude that he hadn't returned and was likely sulking somewhere. It was just his style. The Miroslav Princess had at first told herself that it didn't matter in the slightest what the Tollaire boy did. He was none of her concern. And yet, each day that stretched out and she didn't catch any sign of him, a niggling in her gut woke her earlier than normal. Was that guilt? A hideous feeling, whatever it was. She began searching, starting from the Pit where she had last seen him and pacing in ever increasing circles. It wasn't until she caught Septima's scent (old now but still very much her sister) heading into the dunes that she paused and thought to follow it. Had the little toad been hiding so close to home all this time? Her face hardened in a scowl and she picked up her pace, jogging through the sand until the arid caves caught her attention. It was as good a shelter as any and as she approached, the stench of infection and @Pallas tickled her nostrils. Along with Septima. For several long seconds, she resisted the urge to roar her fury. Her sister was out here, healing that boy - talking to him, no doubt making him smile in that way her sister had of being nice to others. Victoria could not even have identified herself that the feeling was jealousy. She stepped forward nonetheless and entered the cool shade of the caves, white tipped tail twitching behind her. Come out come out wherever you are -

table by koi

His paw, for the most part, had healed. Thanks to @Septima, as much as Pallas was loath to admit he owes anything to any of the Miroslav family. It could stay between them, just as his whereabouts had remained. Days had ticked on and Pallas realised the princess had kept her word - his secret was safe with her. The trust extended had not been one of choice.

While he is probably now capable of travelling and returning to the Oasis, Pallas found himself lingering. Perhaps because he didn’t want to return to the pride, or for some other reason. Maybe he looked forward to Septima’s visits more than he should, and liked that where she came here it was just the two of them. Some part of Pallas’s mind considered his growing attachment to her dangerous, but the rest of him yet couldn’t see a downside.

The Tollaire boy had been napping when the sound of claws click along the floor, alerting him to another’s presence. At first all he can smell is girl and the Oasis, so he thinks nothing of getting up and shaking himself awake, padding silently out to meet Septima with that unfamiliar but now common half grin along his maw. He turns a corner, about to open his mouth and spout out something stupid, but orange eyes land on someone that is decidedly not the princess -

Well. Not that princess, anyway.

"What are you doing here?"

That friendly aura dies with his grin, withering away under Victoria’s gaze.

You play the part of savior

I watch you come undone

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For all her searching, she had not considered what she would actually say to Pallas when she found him. What did she want to say? Why did she even want to find him? He loathed her as much as she loathed him, probably more in fact. But perhaps there was some part of her that felt that he was hers to torment - she had bested him twice now in battle and felt as though she had earned it at least. The arid caves echoed her clicking claws back to her, a staccato beat interrupted with the soft scrape of her pads on the sandy floor. In the end, he found her. For a split second, the look on his face was like nothing she had ever seen before. A half grin - an expectant kind of hope perhaps of who he would find out here. And as soft orange eyes collided with her figure, it was like the light had gone out. The half grin fell, the buoyancy of his features collapsed and his gaze turned withering. All directed at her. Realistically, could she blame him? She had never offered him a shred of kindness, had antagonised and insult him - she'd broken his paw. And yet, for the split second it had taken for his face to fall, the smile had turned him radiant. His question was expected, but it took the girl longer than she would have liked to gather her scattered thoughts and raise a snarky brow at him. "Were you hoping for a different Miroslav?" She asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer. It certainly wouldn't have been Diantha he was looking out for. Why did she even care? But maybe that was the feeling - that she did care, somewhere deep in the pit of her soul. It left her feeling angry, spiteful. "Septima told me where to find you." She admitted, the lie rolling cleanly and smoothly from her tongue.

table by koi

Pallas stares. He can’t help it - both wariness and surprise force his gaze to remain locked on @Victoria. He’d not seen her in weeks and had enjoyed that peace immensely, had even almost forgotten about her in this dark place where she had never set foot (not while he has been here, anyway). Her presence has shattered the illusion, and reality is a cold bitch.

And so is the princess.

Warmth creeps up his cheeks at her question, and Pallas’s jaw sets to keep anything slipping free from his mouth. He refuses to answer, whether to protect Septima or himself he can’t say - but Victoria isn’t looking for an answer. She knows the truth. What she says next to solidify his assumption makes his blood run cold.

"No. She didn’t." Pallas snaps - or tries to. The words come out like a choked whisper, rough around the edges, trying to deny without any certainty. She wouldn’t. Not after weeks of keeping his secret. His mind rebels against what he’s been told, flat refusing to believe her.

But how else did Victoria know? asks a wicked voice.

You play the part of savior

I watch you come undone

code by corvus; image by rabbit

He did not look away and it disgruntled the feline's spine - the fur half raised along her back as she took in his stare. Wariness, as if he were contemplating a snake. Which he reasonably was. Victoria forced herself to shove it further from her mind, to shut down any thought about whether she cared, why she cared about what he thought. And his croak of an answer was confirmation enough for her - if her sisters scent leading towards this place hadn't been enough, this damning evidence certainly was. A knowing smirk curved over her lips and she remained quiet for a brief heartbeat. "You could have been anywhere in Amaryllis -" She drifted off lightly, with a carefully placed shrug of her shoulder to suggest that he could connect the dots.

table by koi

He wants to wipe that smirk off her face, wants to make her hurt. But Pallas’s paw aches, twinges with pain, a reminder of what happened last time he’d tried to silence her with force. He still isn’t at full strength since @Victoria broke his paw. If he ever tried again, it wouldn’t be while he’s injured. So he is powerless to stop her shovelling dirt into the wound, powerless to argue that Septima did not lie. He still refuses to believe she willingly betrayed him - he’s learned how much the sisters clash. Septima had told him how they were with her.

Did Victoria and the other one punish her for helping him? Did they hurt her?

He can’t keep staring, can’t betray himself by looking worried or hurt by Septima’s actions. Victoria will just use it against him - and if Septima is a willing participant, she will too.

So he allows his lips to curl over his fangs, a cold imitation of the smirk he’d worn just moments ago. He runs conversations through his head, plucking information from one particularly quiet night with Septima, and finds a weak spot he knows all the princesses share. "So all of you three are the same, then." He finds himself saying, surprised at how real the sneer sounds. "Tratious whores, like your mother."

You play the part of savior

I watch you come undone

code by corvus; image by rabbit

Victoria felt that she could almost feel the cogs turning, his brain straining to catch up with itself and work out what to do with the information given to him. And then, lips peeling back over his fangs, he smirked back at her. As though he wished to hurt her as much as she wanted to wound him. It came as a low blow, something that struck at her internal insecurities and blazed red across her mind. Victoria had never been allowed to show weakness, even when things hurt her - Diantha would have sat on her for crying over something someone had said. And so the middle child had learned early on to keep her feelings from her face at least. "I haven't betrayed anyone." She countered with a shrug of her shoulder, even though her stomach writhed in the hurt inflicted. "I presume she told you that your secret was safe with her? She has been lying since she slipped from our mother." Matter of fact - not spiteful. Dark grey eyes settled on the boys face and unexpectedly her features dropped to something more sympathetic. "Poor Tollaire - you weren't to know." She cooed gently, drawing in a breath and sighing as she regarded him.

table by koi

Frustrating as it is to get little or no reaction, Pallas knows he’s struck a nerve. He can feel it, or at least knows Septima hadn’t lied about that. Not that, at least. His snarl doesn’t fade as Victoria carries on, and the boy laughs when she insists she hasn’t betrayed anyone. It’s a cold, cruel sound. It’s him, deep down. At least he knows what he is - Victoria pretends to be something else entirely. But they’re the same. Cold, dark, twisted things.

"Betrayal comes in many forms, Victoria." Pallas answers plainly, slowly, as if he’s speaking to a month old cub. Albeit not very kindly. He leaves it there, letting her connect the dots or ignore them. Regardless of the outcome, she knows what she’s done. You don’t need to be friends or even like each other for something to be considered betrayal.

"Get out." He adds after that, once she’s condescended to him more than enough. Whatever she wants, he has no inclination to give her - there must be a reason she’s come, other than to mock him for misplacing his trust. Or perhaps that’s all she wanted, to see him suffer a bit more. That was likely it. Her favourite pastime was tormenting him, after all.

You play the part of savior

I watch you come undone

code by corvus; image by rabbit