It is through @Wither's assurance that Tinúviel finally relents. A soft, drawled suspire exhales through her lips, before silently, she nods. It is best, she thinks, that the sea take him to wherever he would wish to go; there, it is left to nature and he alone. Yes, she finally agrees, swallowing hard, abandoning the nervous tone in her voice to something more decisive, even if it were small. She turns her gaze toward her companion, gazing deep into her teal eyes and find sanctuary from the grim scene before them. There is a comfort in the stranger, a sense of belonging she'd not quite felt before; she wondered, briefly, if perhaps she had indeed done the right thing after all. Perhaps it were a far more honorable death than he would have been provided were he left so cold and alone. Perhaps that was enough, even if she could not stave his suffering.

She seeks @Alaric and @Recluse then, knowing full well her strength alone was not enough to heave the man to the sea, not after she'd spent so long dragging him into Amaryllis. She had no doubt Wither capable, but perhaps the easier it were on them all, the kinder it would be for the decedent before them now. Could you help me? she asks of them, knowing full well the sooner they could perform such a rudimentary funeral, the sooner he could find peace; the sooner they could slip into their beds and wish this night away to a greater morning. Reaching down, Tinúviel gently grasped around the man's ankle; there were teeth marks where she'd tugged at him once before, but no longer did they bleed. The sea was beside them, ever-calm, even in the raging of brutal winter.

Art by AleTie, table by cala

Recluse would sit in silence for a time, doing what he did best, observing. He could glean a lot of information about others simply in the manner they interacted with one another. It was clear to him that Alaric wanted to take the little lioness home, it seemed almost a desperation. Were the two of them lovers? Or perhaps it was an obsession of sorts on the male's part.

As for the other lioness present, an aura of dislike towards Alaric, but towards himself as well. Most did not feel intimidated by the tiny male, who showed an aloof and relaxed posture. Perhaps she simply disliked those of his gender as a whole, which meant he wouldn't even consider giving her an invitation. She seemed the sort that would only cause him trouble.

He could not ask Tinuviel either, both because the mire king might not take it kindly and because it was in poor taste given what had just occurred. He ought to just excuse himself and be on his way, but he supposed he could assist the lioness one more time, given their brief comradery as Cove members. He need not even speak, merely get up and move to assist, a single ear pivoting to one side as if trained on Wither.

image by moogle/code by saph

@Tinúviel agrees and wither finds a smile for her - dark lips curling at the edges. there's a heaviness in her gaze as she levels it on her companion, ears tilting back in shared sympathy. the smaller woman finds resolve somewhere in the gaze they share. and so she stills, matching the stare with the only thing she can offer: staunchly being there. wither is no soft thing to offer a shoulder to cry on or sugar-coated pretty words to soothe the loss. but she can offer a silent promise to be a pillar to lean on, a quiet presence at her back in the face of a difficult task.

she might have done the same for someone she was indebted to. but for tinúviel it feels less force and more necessity. she wonders, then, if this is fate as nox speaks of it. destiny or some great guiding paw. or if she's just been taken by a pretty face ( perhaps both? )

when her companion finally looks away to @Alaric and @Recluse, she blinks her teal gaze, the spell broken. she asks for help, then, and for a moment wither bristles at the idea of the men slithering closer, somehow intruding upon this quiet funeral. but she smothers it, deferring to the woman-in-charge. her paws shift, moving alongside the earthen woman, to reach down and place her jaws, almost tenderly, in the man's skin behind his mane. recluse shifts then to help, an ear twisted and trained on her and she swallows, nostrils flaring, as he comes near enough that his scent washes over her. there's something sour about it and the skin around her eyes tighten, discomfort singing through her body. but she says nothing, only waits for alaric to come to his own place so that they may usher the man to the sea.

And who was he to deny her?

Alaric could no sooner turn away than he could have cut his own heart from his chest. He does not speak, though; it is not necessary. Instead he slips forward silently, grasping the man around an ankle opposite of @Tinúviel. With @Wither near his head and @Recluse no doubt positioned somewhere to counterbalance, Alaric waits for Tin's leave.

When she moves he will move, and with the four of them the weight will be less, and he hopes her burden will lighten. This is not something she should ever have to bear alone.

-exit via helping-

coding and art by dusk

So sorry this has taken so long. I'm gonna fade exit so I can get her into EM, but down for any follow-up threads ♥

In a cruel sort of way, she wishes this lasts forever; the quietness, the solemnity, the solidarity. The way she can seek warmth and empathy in @Wither, familiarity and affection in @Alaric, and camaraderie in @Recluse. She thinks, only, that the missing pieces here are Sahir and Corinthian and the rest of the Cove she had left behind. By the time they thrust the man out to sea and watch as it swallows him into its comfortable darkness, Tinúviel finds a strange sense of peace. Had it been a ghost of a smile she had seen upon his lips as the waves washed away his blood and cleansed his clotted wounds? Had he seemed to still even more, relax into the frigid waves, as if he'd felt nothing warmer?

It seemed silly, the more she thought about it. The man had been cold by the time they'd drug him to the ocean.

Still, she finds herself leaning against Wither, her shoulder barely brushing against the other woman's (though, she knew, it would certainly be Alaric who she returned with that night, and who would undoubtedly swallow her in his warmth and desire). She spares a brief glance between the two Kings, lingering a little longer on the Mire King, silence in her acceptance of his wants and wondering, perhaps, if he would finally be happy to see Tinúviel no longer pulled back by the firm leash of the Cove.

By the time her gaze returned to the sea, she was content to will away the thoughts of prides and politics. For these last remaining moments, she would lose herself in the way the moonlight rose along the crest of the waves and crashed against the shore.

Fade exit w/ co.

Art by AleTie, table by cala

she watches, quiet and stalwart, as @Tinúviel lays him to rest. and when her newfound companion rests gently against her side, the black lioness sighs gently. she knows the woman is going with the mire king - she's seen the decision in her gaze. and while it sours against her tongue, she swallows the choice even so. instead of commenting, she leans her head over, allowing her jaw to press just as gently to the top of the fluffy woman's head. call if you should need me. she murmurs softly, her voice pitched low, intended for her alone - but with the two kings nearby, she can't swear they won't hear the offer either. she's selfishly steal the last few moments of the enigmatic woman's attention before allowing her to go her separate ways - and find her own way back to the women in the caves, who have her heart. exit

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