András was not as brutal as the men born Rike. He'd married into the family at a young age that he'd almost known nothing else, but he'd never been the picture-perfect example of how a Rike man should be: resolute, unrelenting, unforgiving. He mused quietly, wondering if Eulalia or Odhgrimm would have enjoyed the playful jabs @Fernweh was returning to him. He remembered, fondly, the way Magdalene too had often challenged his remarks, and how they'd always playfully fed into one another. Such a thing had seemed only natural with the daughter of the Rike Patriarch. But with a stranger? András wasn't so sure. It felt strange, new. He did not retaliate to her words, instead he only smirked, eyeing her from the corner of his gaze. They continue to walk in silence, venturing further down the mountain yet not toward the foothills, the safety of the heartlands. Did she live in the mountains? he wondered quietly, but was quickly brought to a stop when she halted right before him.

This woman will now tell you to stop and make sure your wound isn't bleeding, she retorts, and András nearly lets out a guffaw, though the stoicism in his face is broken with a half-smirk. I really don't want to tell my people someone got killed on my watch. I assure you, I'm not so easy to kill, he lifted a brow, but then winced at the pain, reminded of the injury sprawling across his forehead. He leaned forward, allowing the lioness to examine the wound as she saw fought, but even he was almost certain he would be unlikely to bleed out before she dragged him to whatever mountainous village she lived in. But if it brings you peace of mind. His voice is noticeably softer, barely above a whisper. In truth, it had been a long time since András had been doted on (though, one could hardly call this doting), and the attention of a woman was one sorely missed. The attention from anyone at all had been something András had never anticipating wanting so desperately.

Art by Kite, table by cala

fernweh doesn't say it, but @András is right. if it's another lion, they would've fallen off the ledge or been torn into pieces by the claws of that thing. but andras managed to survive, a feat that fernweh's impressed by. certainly she was there to help, but on recollection, andras was the one that saved her. so this is just half an excuse for her to repay him back, and half so she won't feel troubled by leaving a wounded man by himself.

she's about to open her mouth and say something before noticing the wince of pain from andrás. she's not sure how much blood he has lost, but even if the injuries not severe, she still needs to get him over the border. should someone come, fernweh will explain. morrigan and talisa wouldn't leave anyone who helped them behind, she's certain of it, so they wouldn't mind her bringing him in. right now you are a target she said, voice less teasing this time, and so am i so let's hurry. her eyes drift to the wound and, out of instinct, she attempts to apply more snow onto what's already on there, watching as they clump together. with a huff, she then offers her side to andrás once more. come on, you'll feel better in no time. [exit]

ART COPYRIGHT RABS / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

He'd no idea the trouble he'd found himself in. Had he, he might have preferred to have taken up residence with the bear, but the man had little way of knowing he was walking into a den of wolves. Never before had he been careful of his identity, but the Rike had lived in Amaryllis long enough and had made themselves visible enemies of the Sigrun and their allies, and even he knew there should eventually be more care given to his own safety. He had so boldly introduced himself as a Rike at the borderlands in hopes of finding his family; now that he knew they were scattered and thrown to the wind without abandon, there was no one András could call on should he find himself in trouble.

Even @Fernweh could be his enemy, he thought; though he'd very much like her not to be.

For now, however, the lioness was right. They were two injured lions in the far more desolate and dangerous parts of the country. Should another beast happen upon them, or a patrol from an enemy pride, they would be ill-suited to defend themselves then. He nodded in agreement, before following the striped lioness back toward her home; and when his suspicions were concerned, he might have been less agreeable to such a cold and dangerous place had he not been so injured.

exit András w Fernweh

Art by Kite, table by cala