look in to my eyes
it's where my demons hide

it was strange to come here, to climb the red cliffs towards a home that was not a home. a place to stay, to belong, when truthfully the beast could never. it was wrong, it did not fit, and yet -- he could not stay, alone.

they come with him on black wings, ink feathers that soothe him with their soft sounds, flapping near silently as he climbs. higher and higher, wishing he had the winds that they did, wishing he could close his eyes and see what they saw and become what they were.

fly away from here.

instead he climbs, one step after another, and at the borders he calls for them. for the leaders of this place, for the woman that had brought him here. for @Amara and @Louve ♔ and @Faolán if she was so inclined to join him.

postscript by aurora

the cruelty of love,

She is quick on her feet when she hears his call.

Oh, she could ignore it. She could ignore him. She might not be able to hide from him forever but she could try. Yet, the thought never even crosses her mind. Instead there's a jolt of.... something hot in her chest. Wasn't anxiety close to excitement, anyway? Dainty paws sweep across the now-familiar red rocks until she finds him, surrounded by the ravens he calls his.

A grand entrance.

Softly she chuffs at him as she approaches, wintry ears listening for steps beyond her own. He hadn't only called for her, after all. She assumed the sovereigns would come and see just who was knocking upon their door; she hoped her word was enough to allow him entry. She is silent as she steps closer, seating herself at his side -- pointedly on the other side of the borders.

A quiet show of welcome, even if she lacks the powers to make it official.

code by flea, art by rabbit ♥

louve remembers well their first meeting, her and the twin-tailed healer. the snowy woman had proven to be an asset to the pride, since, but the sovereign had wondered often about the monsters that haunted her. or, more accurately, monster. there was only one left, she had claimed; louve wondered if that were still the case. or had that number been reduced to zero.

she arrives to find @Faolán set beside a beast of a male, a giant that immediately piques her interest if only for his size. another asset, perhaps? "bonjour," comes her smooth greeting, gaze flicking from the medic to the stranger, "who ees zis?" her question is meant for faolan, an indication of just how much she elevated women over the men. @Draven would certainly be the one to answer, but the yellow eyes of the matriarch rest heavily on the lioness.

ART BY BUNNY, CODE BY LARS

look in to my eyes
it's where my demons hide

the ravens settle, perching on gnarled trees and rocky outcrops. telling him all he needs to know; she is coming. draven did not need the warnings of his flock, the ruffles of feathers and clacking of beaks -- he could feel her arrival through the bounds of his red thread, the electricity stirring fresh life in to his bones.

and then she is there and for a second he greets her with a boyish grin, until the God wipes it away. "fao," a hum, a whisper, but he does not move. not even as she settles beside him (and he can feel the heat from her body) does he move, for if he gave in to the pull he would be lost. drowning.

unreachable.

and they are not alone.

"draven," he answers the woman that comes, and bites back the second name so hard that his gums bleed from the tension in his teeth. not bjorn, not now. not even as the God laughs and screams and strokes black fingers down his spine. "i have come to join, if you'll have me." a glance to fao, then, equal parts interested and anxious of what she might have to add.

@Louve ♔ @Faolán

postscript by aurora

the cruelty of love,

His boyish grin almost startles her, the look so out of place upon those dark, dour features. She is more used to the heavy-set of bjorn, and even if this expression is fleeting she.... treasures it. Holds it close. It's a good thing, then, that @Louve ♔ arrives shortly after, for she cannot dwell on how close they sit. Or on how much closer she wishes she was.

It is cold in the bluffs; that is as good of an excuse as any.

@Draven introduces himself, his name echoed by quiet raven calls. Here, though, with the weight of louve's stare, she cuts in to add: My mate. A small glance is thrown draven's way but her dainty features are placid, calm -- no hint to the pounding of her heart. It is a lie, but only a small one, and... there's more truth there than she wants to admit.

She knows he knows, though.

He is an experienced fighter, she adds after he expresses his wish to join, because louve will want to know these things. Even as she speaks though Faolán shifts her neck -- a subtle movement that makes the satchel move where it lays across her chest. It's a hardly noticeable motion but it helps obscure the scars upon her neck -- the very same scars left by the man at her side.

Her mate.

Her monster.

code by flea, art by rabbit ♥

there is something about him that chills her to the very bone. it is too easy to think of the monsters @Faolán had spoken of, remembering her promise to kill the one that remained. the matriarch finds herself watching the snowy woman even more closely, as if seeking any sign that that was why he was here, a monster being led to his demise.

but then -- my mate -- and despite her reservations the tension melts from her limbs. on edge, sure, but not nearly as much as seconds before. fao did not strike her as the type to make hasty decisions, nor one to be easily led astray, and so there must be something here that she was missing.

something that spoke to why he jolted so abruptly, looking at the two-tailed woman as if she were the very moon in the sky. "ah oui?" now her attention is hyper focused on the male, "ees z'at all you can do?" it would be easy to invite him in without further questioning, to accept fao's vouch and let it be, but something made her want to pry a liittle deeper...

@Draven

ART BY BUNNY, CODE BY LARS

look in to my eyes
it's where my demons hide

draven is no stranger to scrutiny. years under the paw of bjorn have taught him, well, how to mask the rough edges that prying eyes sought to unearth. adopting a silver tongue, mastering it, luring in each unsuspecting victim. it is what keeps his expression placid even under the weight of @Louve ♔'s stare, until --

it is amazing what one small word can do

-- his entire world turns upside down. in hindsight he will recognize it for what it was meant to be, a ruse to gain him access to her home, to make a place together. in the moment he jolts, his head swinging towards his ariadne, the red thread bound so tight he can feel it squeeze his heart. it stutters and then beats even more quickly, as if desperate to escape the vice (or thrilled to feel the grasp of it?)

bjorn howls his fury and draven... draven looks at her as if she hung the moon.

but there is no time for this. there is no place for the feelings that swell in his chest, that the God beats back with snarls and savagery. "i have many skills," he answers, forcing himself to look at woman who rules, here. "i am a... trained... cleric." trained? hardly. his experience with the other side was first hand. but did he need to specify?

no; no, let her make her own assumptions.

he shifts every so slightly closer to his mate and wishes they were anywhere but here.

postscript by aurora

the cruelty of love,

Sometimes, with draven, she thinks she holds his leash.

That red thread could be a collar, fixed too-tight around his neck. She could hold the leash in her pretty little hand -- she could pull it taut when he disobeyed, or allow him more slack when he's been good. Here, though, she has no illusion of control over him. She says mate and her gaze slides to him, quick enough to see the surprise marring his features.

It'd be so, so easy for @Louve ♔ to see that surprise, too.

She has no interest in trying to trick louve; there is no malice here. It is just the neatest explanation to allow him passage, when the bluffs seem to be lacking in males. There seemed to only be a few who did not belong to the females, and quietly she hopes louve will see the collar on @Draven's neck and not think anything of it.

He answers the sovereign easily, and her twin-tails flick idly at her ankles. Not quite an outlet for nervous energy, but something close. When draven falls quiet, she seeks to speak -- inserting her voice quietly in the lull. I would like him here, she murmurs, and tries to grab hold of his lead and pull it tight, because surely that dominating spirit will speak to the dieudonne matriarch. With me.

Her mate, her monster -- call him whatever you want, but he was hers.

code by flea, art by rabbit ♥

i have many skills he says, and speaks of ones she has little interest in. louve thinks only of her father in the world beyond, wondering if draven might be capable of summoning him, and then casts aside that train in favor of focusing on the more important task at hand.

when @Faolán speaks it does exactly what the two-tailed woman hoped for. louve is satisfied by her appearance of control, by the way the beast seems cowed in her presence. "mmm," she hums as she looks from one to the other, studying him carefully for a moment more before her head bobs in a small nod. "far be it from me to deny you," and she looks at faolan and not draven when she says this, with a tiny smile. louve knew well of love -- knew well what the leash felt like in hand.

"welcome, draven, to ze bluffs." a final flourish before she rises, looking once more to the white wolf. "i will leave 'im to you," and then she is gone, the door left ajar for the monster to enter.

-exit-

ART BY BUNNY, CODE BY LARS

i would like him here she says, and he forgets the sovereign entirely. he leans instinctively towards her, closer, the red thread a noose around his neck that he willingly hangs himself with. @Faolán has claimed him and that is all that matters. it is enough to convince louve; enough to give them all what they wanted.

it is almost too easy.

the voice is an inky whisper in his mind, echoed by the call of his raven. a warning? do they speak, now, to tell her that HE is here? draven's face remains impassive, surely it is only her imagination that has his eyes darkening.

and that smile -- faint and flickering -- cannot possibly be anything but genuine. "lead the way," with just enough of a waver to play well this boyish guise, this love-struck puppy that he has become. nevermind the monster that hides in the shadows -- he is nothing to worry about.

-exit w/fao?-