— But satisfaction brought it back.

She lingers; a demon on the borders, shrouded by darkness. Memories wash over her as she stands upon the very precipice of danger, as though taunting whoever may lay dormant within the lands she once called home. It was here... She had learned what it meant to belong with others — to belong to someone. A feral guard dog that patrolled the borders, with an instinct to kill but a muzzle to keep her at bay. Who might have taken her spot now, if any?

Along the borders she begins to walk, dangerously toeing the line with each step. There is no fear in her movement, though she no longer holds herself with the same grace as she had the last time she stepped upon the shifting sands. Ludivine doesn't call out — she cares not to alert the pridelanders to her position, but nor does she hide and skulk about. She doesn't care if she's found — but nor does she mind if she goes amiss. What they don't know, won't hurt them...

Still, curiosity keeps her lingering close by, wondering who might have staked the lands as their own after her untimely... Departure.

@Kvare

That storm had nearly wiped Caladan from its very existence. Kvare had lost a brother that day, as he'd lost too a King. And all that came after was a windsweeping of war and blight. Kvare had emerged from it a stronger man, a better King, but at what cost? Rare a day had gone by that he did not think of Kozrain, did not miss the laissez faire lifestyle he'd taken in his youth. The weight of the crown bore heavy on his shoulders, especially now that he did it alone, however temporary it might be.

That patrol had been a particularly lonely one. Kvare's expression was twisted in a half-scowl, a tenseness written into his pulled shoulders, his tight steps. Long had he grown used to the feeling of sand beneath his feet, the tickling debris lodged between his toes no longer anything more than a passing afterthought. So enthused in his own thoughts was he that he did not notice @Ludivine lurking along the borders nearby. She'd made no true intention to completely conceal herself, but so too had she not been aiming to draw attention. And Kvare, who rarely ran into trouble upon his borders, had not thought to keep himself focused on his task.

He may have found her, otherwise.

But there was little fun in having the advantage.

Art by Rabbit, table by cala

Hark — the devil approaches!

Two denizens of the night brandished with fiery hunger, pitted to cross paths once more at the juncture between heaven and hell. She spots him first — lady luck on her side — and immediately allows the shadows to swallow her whole as she maneuvers herself into hiding. Large, jagged rocks that line this specific part of the border — her hiding spot, most likely only known to those that walked this dreary landscape as their home. Intuition is strong in the cannibal's mind as she's quick to recall its location, even after being gone for so long.

Lips quirk and break into a devious grin — memories, of the last time they'd run across one another. How quick she'd had to leave, but something carnal had been felt slithering like a snake between their meeting — pierced by the demon she'd thrown her allegiance to.

Ah, but Gauthier wasn't here this time.

“So a denizen of the night still haunts these lands?” she calls aloud, a feminine croon that promises everything— “How well do you defend your borders, I wonder?” The breathy laugh is audible in her words, but she's already on the move — quick on her feet, hoping to make it so that if @Kvare were to check where the voice had come from, she'd no longer be there— like a ghost. On the move, attempting to skirt around the rocks to approach him from behind.

She moves now into hiding, the silent swiftness of her step compelling the Caladna King to further think there is nothing amiss. He pauses, briefly, lifting his head in the air. The traces of her scent are thin, hardly there, and he thinks nothing more of it than a passing, fleeting dream. It does, however, bring her to his mind. Their meetings had always been simply in passing, dedicated to the guise that he were his brother, and had thus relinquished most of his freedom to Kozrain's own boyish desires. And yet, he'd found himself empty of her company, desperate for more of what she'd not been able to give before the storm had nearly swept them all out to sea.

But just as quickly as the thought of her was there, it was gone, and Kvare's brief pause lasted only a moment.

Until he heard her.

So a denizen of the night still haunts these lands?

A boyish brow lifts, turning just as @Ludivine's voice echoed across the coast. But he could not see her. Even where he thought she may be, there was no trace of her there anymore. And for a brief moment, Kvare thought that his thoughts had manifested, that some distant dream were coming into palpable realization.

How well do you defend your borders, I wonder?

Not very well, apparently, he replied, the trail of his words ending on a gruff laugh. Were he truly in danger, Kvare would have been far more keen, far more focused; but even he could not deny the tribulations of newfound Kinghood and the brutal all-nighters of early fatherhood had left him less sharp. Ludivine— he calls again, his smirk disappearing, Come out, lest I think you're a ghost come to haunt me.

And I would let you haunt me forever.

Art by Rabbit, table by cala

Oh, but haunt him she does — a nightmare to his shadow.

She is still alive, flesh and blood, but it does not stop her from remaining a phantom of the night. So easy to dance across the sand like a serpent, the feeling of home pressing between toes and welcoming her back. She won't play the game forever — but for now, it brings her great delight. Wicked lips crease into a grin, ivory canines glistening in the moonlight as she listens to @Kvare's words. A deep crescendo of longing— does he fear something, perhaps? That which goes bump in the night? Oh, poor thing.

Her name slips like silk from his tongue, a moment of surprise to hear it whispered from the denizen's forked tongue — ah, but he remembers her. Not just a memory, but as a pridemate. A lion with a name, not just a mere number. His fervor is what finally drags her from the shadows, slipping forth with serpentine prowess.

“You remember my name,” she purrs deliciously into the night air, a breath forming before her as a heated hiss accompanies her words. “Should I be flattered — or do you simply remember the names of all the ladies you meet?” A curious question accompanied by a raised brow. She approaches from behind him at first, lest he turn to face her approach — she stops, still a fair distance away. Enough to still churn that fiery heat of want.

The storm had swept them all away, and the once-glimmering hope that had manifested in the days followed dissipated as the weeks and months had passed. Kvare had reforged himself thrice over, losing the blissful laissez faire of his boyhood and instead unfurling into a man, a King. There was some semblance of humbling bittersweetness that came with her reappearance, a pleasant yet distant dream of those earlier days lost among the throes of memories forged since. Has she come back for this place? he wonders, and half-expects her nighttime dance might turn into something far more deadly. But @Ludivine had plans and obligations elsewhere, and Kvare Tollaire would keep his coastal throne for another night.

You remember my name, she purrs, and Kvare turns around to face her. She is illuminated by the argent light of the moon, hues of dark browns and mahoganies almost silver.

How could I not? he wants to say.

Should I be flattered — or do you simply remember the names of all the ladies you meet? He cannot pry his eyes from the arch of her brow, the curl of her lips. Kvare refrains from stepping forward, despite every instinct in him desperate to. Would she not slip from his fingers again, even if he were to cage her? Could Kvare truly even keep Ludivine contained? Were she not wild, unfettered, untouchable?

I only remember the impressive ones, he muses back, his dark lips pulling into another cunning smirk. It is only then he steps forward; as if a test, eager to see if she were receptive to such invitations, or if she would continue to keep him at an agonizing distance. The Cove is mine, now, he continues, his tone fringing on something more serious, steeled, But...it won't be yours, will it?

It were a shame, if so, but Kvare could not quite shake his hunch. He would have preferred to entertain her company for longer than this night.

Art by Rabbit, table by cala

Her lips curl, so devious and dangerous, his words stroking the ego burning like a fire in her chest. How cunning he was, to play with her so. He dares to take a step forward and she mirrors it — but opposite, a step back to keep the yearning distance between them. Patience. It was what he would need to deal with her flight of fancy, a night denizen keeping the wall between them as if to taunt him with it. Make him crave to break through it.

@Kvare confirms her suspicions, that he now holds the sandy crown atop his head. Some comfort knowing that an ally currently rules the place she'd once called her home. Someone that she knew Gauthier had once trusted as well — at least, enough to stake a claim in the cove. His question draws her back to the presence and her wicked gaze glowers, paired with a grin that stretches across her maw. Would you like if it was? The question hangs in the air, but remains unspoken, even if the expression on her face might give her away. But, seemingly, he knows the answer to his question.

“Non,” she finally speaks once more, confirming his hypothetical riddle. “These lands... Will know my claws, know my fangs. Know the taste of the blood that I spill,” she whispers such promises in the dead of the night, a curl of her fangs beneath obsidian lips. “I cannot do such a thing beneath the banner of another.” It was as simple as that.

“Knowing you now rule the cove... Is promising. I shall return to you once we can stand as equals,” she promises him once more, before she turns tail and disappears back into the night once more — as if she was nothing more than a nightmare haunting Kvare's waking dreams.

Leaving no trace of her presence.

exeunt Ludivine