András had little desire to return, and yet, something had brought him back. The disappearance of his wife had weighed heavily in his heart, but time eased most things, and though the thought of her still hurt, he had long wrenched himself from the festering wound her absence had created and willed himself into the brutal wilds once more. When it came time to return to Amaryllis, his fractured sense of purpose had led him wayward, astray from the resoluteness he'd once known. There was Eulalia, then there was Odhgrimm. Certainly, the newer Rike Patriarch still remained; certainly, he would find him this time, and find himself among the throng of all he'd once known. All he'd had left to tie him to his life long lost.

It was a bitter reality he didn't pick up on their scents at the border to Amaryllis. It were unlikely he ever would, but the wounds still stung; festering, blighting.

He skulked into Amaryllis under the cover of night. The sky was clear, the moon illuminating the waves as they crashed upon the shore. Here was Amaryllis' more calmer beaches, the gentle pushing and pulling of the waves a blissful whirring, a deafening to his intrusive thoughts. His face was twisted into something akin to a scowl, as if half-tethered to the grief and rage he'd felt this grueling past year, but despite the surrender of numbness after all this time, returning to this place felt as if he were reliving it all over again.

András sighed, but he continued onward. Hopeful, perhaps, that there were none others seeking this place out at such the peak of night. The wind was bitter, sweeping forth from the mountains in the far-off distance and enveloping the landscape in a wintry grasp. He knew it would serve him well to find shelter soon, but for now, he could continue his journey inland.

Art by Kite, table by cala

Should she be putting her leg under this much stress in a short period of time? Probably not. Did Tiamat really care? Only a little. She was a woman of action, and resting with her leg up had worn on her patience. She couldn't wait for when this damned brace could be removed and she could walk freely again. But wait she must, and so she did something that was mildly less dangerous (usually) than hunting or wandering.

The chill night air made her leg ache. She was coming to the realization that it always would, even after it was healed and usable again. There was a chance she would have a pronounced limp, too. But anything was better than the twisted and mangled mess it had been in before. An ache would not disable her. It was annoying though.

The night was calm, thr waves gently lapping the edges od the passage and the skies clear, letting the light of the moon illuminate her path. She doubted anyone would be coming through at night, but she was restless and tired of laying still. So here she was, her ocean eyes scanning the horizon for emerging figures.

And there, in the distance, the ghost white color of a figure coming into view. She watched as he pushed along the passage, getting closer in the cover of night. She was light enough that she wouldn't be invisible to his eyes, so Tiamat began to stall forward, moving at an odd gate with her fully splinted front leg.

When she felt she was close enough to for him to at least hear her, Tiamat came to a halt, resting with her leg off the ground. "Looking for something?" she asked him with the confident smirk that often graced her muzzle.

@András

image by rabbit, code by anyu

Away from the den at night was a novelty, and something she had not done since Nero had moved to the plains, the cubs had been born… not since life had changed in such a way. Yet, a certain restlessness pulled at her- driving her from her peaceful home and so she went to the passage… in search of something. Thought what that something was- she did not know.

Ghyslaine certainly did not expect the slightly familiar scent on the breeze to catch her attention, her ears training forward intently as she inhaled deeply focusing on the night around her. Another scent intertwined, laced with that of the Mire and as she approached the scents she moved almost cautiously as it her senses were deceiving her somehow.

Yet, there he was. And the female who had challenged Alizabeth- the mire one- she had bested Violarum once though Ghyslaine did not know her name, yet she offered her a brief small smile. It was the male before her that mattered more anyway.

It was to him her gaze went, and a curious tilt of her head. "It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you, what’s it with you and I and meeting around water?" A subtle hint to their first meeting way back in flooded tunnels, near the shore- with far more turbulent waters than these. A small grin accompanied her words to- @András

ART COPYRIGHT RABBIT / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

He finds András late, swimming already in an interesting company. Gauthier caught only the tail-chatter of the two women, unaware of their standing but respectful enough for the heathen he is: passing a glance from one to the other and a near imperceptible nod of acknowledgement, too brusque to be considered formal enough for a king, too anodyne to be rude. He even established the restraint to avoid staring at Tiamat's injured leg. Ambassadorial duties are beyond his typical joys, but it is duty and he treats it well enough.

The silver lion is assessed quickly - strong, capable, and seemingly scornful of a topic the Dacian wretch could hope was in the same vein. He looked back to the wintry blows against distant peaks, the frigid shimmer of waves as they rushed the shores, the heat of his breath teased on cold air. Abrasive, isn't it? It gets worse, he wants to say, unable to smother the feral grin as he turns back to the tall stranger, swallowing the joke. That isn't too welcome. (Little does he know that András is well aware.)

Though the waters were calm, the wind had a bite to it, and a childhood in the Mountain's Shadow of the Wastes to the far east taught him there was sensibility in minding a coming storm. It would be on the vagrant's heels soon enough, and fortunate for him, there was shelter close by. The Cove is a short journey from here, traveler, if you seek some sanctum. Awful for small talk or a casual haggle. If you're seeking purpose, my borders are open to the ambitious.

@András_{BG — ART — CODE}

Never was one left alone long at the gates of Amaryllis, even in the middle of the night. András abandoned his broody demeanor when he spotted a light form take shape upon the horizon. His vibrant gaze falls upon @Tiamat as she approaches, the familiar smell of the Mire wafting off of her; he remembered, vaguely, that the King of the Mire had long wed and had children with one of his cousins, but that had been over a year ago now, and András was uncertain if his family still found home in the Mire, or if it was even still lead by the same King. Instead, András was far more focused on her demeanor: confident, resolute. For now, a warm bed and some food, he said, returning her smirk with a toothy upward turn of his own lips, his long fangs glinting in the moonlight. Later, he could worry about the specifics of his return. Did he want to attempt to try and find his family again, or was the death of his wife and children a sign he should forge a new path?

The twosome were not left to linger as such. A far more familiar face soon happened upon them, and though András had known @Ghyslaine had been a recruiter for the pride she was apart of before, there was something different, now. Something had changed. Ah, fuck the sea, he smirked, lifting his brows. The ocean, the rain, all of it. They'd first met in the throes of that storm, plunging into discussions about familial politics at perhaps the worst time possible. And yet, András still made his stance clear. Fuck the sea, fuck the Sigrún. I like to think there is something uniquely interesting about you. An itch I can't scratch. And though a long year it had been, András hoped she was still on her mission to dig up the truth for herself.

Finally, the Cove King came to join them. His gaze narrowed, falling upon the form of @Gauthier, slinking from between the reeds, hasty to size András up in the way any good recruiter would; were András younger and bolder, he might have said something, might have flashed a crooked smile. Instead, he remained resolute, his façade regarding each of the lions present with equal scrutiny. As it turns out, purpose is something sorely needed, he says, relenting, hesitating if only for that brief and heavy moment. The only thing to break the steeled iciness of his demeanor was the thought of Magdalene, and the family he'd come to lose. My name is András Rike. For the night, I'd just like a place to rest my head. I can hunt, guard, and fight. He paused, before turning his gaze toward the Cove King. Purpose and ambition can be discussed when I'm no longer weary from travel.

Art by Kite, table by cala

She was the first to greet him, but she was quickly joined by others that she did not recognize. She was hardly impressive compared to them. Her heavily scarred form and clearly broken leg could perhaps give all of the wrong impressions. But Tiamat did not waver before the less damaged members of his welcoming party. She continued to hold her proud, confident posture, eyes flashing as each of the others arrived after her.

The other woman seemed to know the man, but Tiamat chose to ignore that fact, even though it put her at somewhat of a disadvantage. And the man that followed after mentioned that he was from the Cove. So he must be of the pride that had replaced their former allies in the Cove. Was this man an ally also? She wasn't too sure.

Finally the white man was allowed to speak, and it turned out that he had more to say of any of them. She regarded him with a curious look, his name ringing bells in her head. His surname, specifically, if only because she had made it a purpose to know of others that hated the Sigrun. Of course, the Rike hated them far more than she did - her grudge was against Alizabeth now, really. Still, a smirk spread across her face and her eyes sparked with mischief, now feeling that she had an edge over the other two recruiters.

"Perhaps you'd like to rest your head among family?" she said, her voice betraying none of the inner delight that she was feeling. "I believe we have a few in the Mire who share that name of yours, as well as some other likeminded lions." Like me, she thought to herself. "And if ambition is something you'd like to take care of later, we have plenty of opportunities for that as well."

@András @Ghyslaine @Gauthier

image by rabbit, code by anyu

In the momentary silence that followed her words- Ghyslaine let her eyes go almost vacant for just a moment, as she considered the Rike family, and the Sigrun and the chaos they brought with them. Her cubs at home, her former Sigrun husband... the war that followed, and the hatred she felt towards a religion that... she felt was based in nothing more than lies. Yet, that had been a tension point in her marriage, because Nero had been raised among those lies. Her own cubs though, would she allow them to be influenced by that darkness? Not on her damned life.

Another arrives, and Ghyslaine only recalls him as the victor of the Cove- but he is a king that she does not know- does not know where she stands. Not like, the Mire female- who at least, she knows her allegiance is with Alaric. Speaking of her- she speaks about her former home, and Ghyslaine listens politely, knowing that when she'd first met András, that was the home that she had been in- where she would have tried to recruit him too... so much was different now.

At the end of the female ( @Tiamat 's ) words, Ghyslaine takes her moment to speak. "I don't live in the Mire anymore, I'm running Lorien Plains- a centrally located pride in the land. We're aiming to stay neutral- out of conflict as best we can. Though, given our earlier conversations... I definitely can understand if that isn't something you'd want?" She trails off, a brow quirking. Would he gather that conflict meant the Rike and Sigrun fighting, and would he wonder what had happened? She didn't want to reveal her cubs to the strangers before her- didn't want to reveal something that could be perceived as such a weakness. "We've established a home for those to come to get away from the chaos of the other prides, if that is something you want- while resting, and figuring out your next move." Her words are warm to him, hopefully an indication that- whatever he chose- she hoped he'd be happy.

@Gauthier @András

ART COPYRIGHT RABBIT / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

For all the loathing he bore the Passage, its tussle of environmental scrape, its shifting faces passed through the diplomatic grinder, it was a well of information. Despite the dreary stretch of politics between one war and the next, the vitality in details is not lost on him, and even an empty-handed mission does not go without its better wisdom.

András appeals to the Caladan's simple wants - hunt, guard, and fight - as well as Gauthier's mode of conversational pace. The drab chill wasn't a preferable cloak of patient coziness, and any elsewhere bed would be of necessary comfort. Whether that was Lorien or Ecrosia was to be seen - and he couldn't fault the choices. Alaric had held the Mire long enough to recognize as a reliable sovereign, and Lorien, as Ghyslaine had painted, seemed a delightful haven.

Ah, but the Cove cut the distance between them.

His ear flicked at Tiamat's mention of family to be found in the mire, echoing Andras's earlier claim to the Rike. Adalwolf no doubt, though Gauthier was unfamiliar with any names of the rest. Valaine resided in the Cove herself, but he did not play into the family politics well enough yet to show his hand in the matter.

He looked back over @András with an approving glance. You are welcome to find rest for tonight in Caladan. Any of those talents would very prove useful to us, should you stay. A grin spread, as amiable as it is menacing. I cannot promise a life without chaos, however. One wants... and takes. Simple pleasures. The primal way of the savage garden. No godly satisfaction ever came without its pound of flesh, spilt blood.

@Tiamat, @Ghyslaine_{BG — ART — CODE}

Each of the lions here had something András wanted, in one way or another. @Tiamat broaches first about the subject of his family, something surprisingly sore when he heard that they lingered still in the Mire. In the long year that had passed, a part of him had hoped for the slim chance that they might have found success in their original endeavor of claiming their own pride, of toppling their opponents. So far as András knew, the Sigrun still had two prides and many more allies, and the Rike none. I'd heard long ago the Rike had found allies out of the Mire's King, András corroborated thoughtfully, his lionish brows knitting, But the Mire's been around for a good while. I am certain the swamp is...rather full? A bold assumption to make, but András assumed that unless there was a Rike King, then the Mire was still lead by the man Erna married, and he had likely amassed himself an army unrelenting. Perhaps it were a better place to visit and recoup what had become of his ilk.

Next, his attention turns toward @Ghyslaine; an obvious choice, for he had been trying to join her pride before Magdalene's disappearance and presumed death. And yet, there is a hesitation in her voice, something striving toward a peace and prosperity that András could never hope to give her. His name alone was enough to invoke the ire of the Sigrun and their ilk; that much was proven brutal fact during that first challenge so long ago. The constant push and pull, give and take, felt like an ocean all on its own. Conflict would never escape him, no matter how hard he tried to run from it. The thought briefly occurred that perhaps he could forge something new, change his name, find himself a stranger among fresh faces. And yet, something dogged and boyish about András could not handle the idea of losing all that he had ever known. This woman had made something of herself, and it felt almost cruel to allow the ways of old to desecrate any part of it. You're right that I would likely disrupt your peace with my existence alone, he stated, perhaps harsher than he would have liked, but a part of him was disappointed that this decision must be made. He would have rather gone with someone he knew. Besides, my father in law would be rolling in his grave if he knew I'd live under the rule of a woman. Cruel, András, he seethed, but true.

Finally, his orange gaze returns to @Gauthier, who now seemed like an obvious choice compared to the others. The invitation to the Cove was delightfully in tune to a lifestyle that suited András; one unfettered yet loyal all the same, free to do as he pleased within the written bounds by a King who seemed even-tempered and reasonable. And chaos; such a thing attracted Rike like moth to a flame, even for the more easy-going of them. Lead the way, my King, he smiled, long canines glinting from beneath his dark lips. He spared a final glance toward Tiamat, and then a moment longer toward Ghyslaine (and what was that look, if not one that hid a glint of grief?), before turning toward Gautheir and allowing him to lead the way to the Cove.

Exit András w Gauthier(?)

Art by Kite, table by cala

Her attention tunnels, focuses in on him- ignoring the others present, instead focusing on the male that she knew. When he speaks, she feels a flicker of both sorrow, mixed with understanding- the way silt eddies in water in the river. She smiles at him- an expression of understanding, though she notes the slight harshness to his tone- she cannot hold it against him. Time will, with any luck provide her a chance to see him again- to explain better than she is able with these strangers present.

She nods, accepting his decisions without any further emotion, a kind, tight smile on her face. "Good luck to you," she wishes him, and it is truly a sincere thing that she wishes him- and she wonders again, how different things would be... had life been.... different.

With that, she makes her exit, glancing over her shoulder for only a second, and perhaps there is a touch of pain in her gaze- at not having the home her friend needed from her.

-exit-

_{ART BY YUMPY}