Life lately had found itself in a sort of lull, much to Delphine’s both satisfaction and annoyance. It was boring, yes, to repeat her days in the same fleeting manner – but it also soothed her somewhat that chaos had evaded them, at least temporarily. More than enough had transgressed within their family as of late, and she, selfishly or otherwise, was not keen to invoke more calamity into the mix. It was better, perhaps, to simply keep her head down for a while and let things play out as they were intended to.

Trailing down the mountainside and into the badlands in the early hours of the morning, Delphine had no particular plan in mind other than wanting to escape the confines of the bluffs, if only for a little while. Her body was growing and, with it, so was her confidence – she liked to believe that she did not need the coddling eye of her parents or the shadows of her siblings keeping watch anymore. Like all soon-to-be-teenagers, she was jovially and naively cocky in her abilities, which was both virtue and vice, depending on the day.

As the banshee continued with her aimless wanderings, she eventually found herself at the base of a large and flourishing acacia tree. Her eyes glanced up passively at it, studying the monument for a fleeting moment or two, before she looked to rear the front half of her body upwards, unsheathed claws hooking into the highest point of the trunk that she could reach. It was only there, once securing a grasp, that she would tear them back down along the length of it, and would then continue to repeat this pattern again and again. In slow, steady succession would the girl opt to sharpen her claws, preparing for whatever non-existent battle she might need to be involved in. Living as a Dieudonne, you could never be too sure.

@Louve

Amara's children grew as her own did; soon there would be more among the bluffs to join them, and Louve felt a quiet satisfaction in the knowing of it. There was nothing that gave her more of a sense of accomplishment than the raising of her children, no matter how independent they all seemed to be.

Today she trailed one of their future, a daughter not her own but a sister instead. Strange, that thought, for she did not feel for them as she did Elaine or even Xavier. They felt more like nieces or nephews, and she mulled this thought over until @Delphine came to a stop and set to work on the acacia tree.

Louve paused for a moment to watch, then announced her presence (if it was not already known) with a low chuff. Then she, too, rose up beside her little sister, reaching up against the bark to tear it in to shreds, putting force behind each pull. When she is satisfied she drops down, reclining to her haunches to admire the wicked sharpness of her claws, to flex them before her face. "Parfaite," she purred with a side glance at Delphine.

CODE•ART•BG

The tiny heathen had not been expecting company, but she welcomed (and revelled in) it all the same – especially upon realizing that it was @Louve that had joined in her aimless wanderings across the badlands. Bright eyes flickered curiously to the shape of her older soeur as she approached, before opting to mimic the younger dieudonne’s movements. and it was there that they existed for a long couple of moments, moving in unison as they methodically – thoughtfully – sought to sharpen their weapons across the bark of the grande acacia tree.

It was only when Louve retreated, falling back down to the earth with a satisfied ’parfait’ that Delphine did the same, finding now that it was her turn to heed the matriarch’s actions. A small, brunette paw lifted, satisfaction brewing as she observed the way in which her claws now glistened in the light of the early morning sun — they were surely sharp enough to hurt; sharp enough to kill. “peut-être aurons-nous la chance de les mettre à profit.” maybe we'll get lucky enough to put them to use. She commented absently in response, lashes giving a brief flutter before her paw returned to the surface of the earth, and Delphine found her eyes gravitating onto Louve.

Truth be told, there were many questions that swarmed her mind now, and that had been swarming her mind over the last several months. The tides were reeling every chance that they got, and Delphine found herself struggling, some days, to even situate herself amongst the fray. She liked to think that she was getting better at it, getting smarter – but there was still so much to learn, and she found a simple, yet thoughtful question falling from between her lips within the next breath. “puis-je demander, louve – qu'est-ce que ça fait d'être la reine des wolfborn ?” can i ask, louve -- what is it like to be queen of wolfborn? Delphine saw her sister wield the sword of the bluffs well, of course – time and time again, she stood there, a powerhouse against their oppressors and an unrelenting force of nature. But now that Delphine was learning that things have not always been so peachy amongst their family, and realizing that there were many others out there that would likely want to see their heads on stakes, she was curious to know what Louve thought of it all – of the crown that shined so poignantly upon her head. It was simply a question of reflection, and hoped that it would be taken as such.

oh, certainly they would. most definitely. "il y a toujours une opportunité si vous la recherchez." there is always an opportunity if you look for it. she tells her young sister with a wicked grin, all too much teeth to be completely comfortable. a shimmer of madness, perhaps, or a hint of instability. a taste of the monster that wore the chartreux skin of the wolfbron monarch, unmasked for that brief second in the company of her own flesh and blood.

"ta chasse arrive bientôt," your hunt comes soon she tells her with a swell of pride blossoming in her chest, "assurez-vous de les garder affûtés." make sure to keep them sharp. what better opportunity than the so-soft skin of a lion?

talk turns to the crown and she can imagine its weight upon her head, can feel the throne of bones she sits upon. a duty far different than what she had imagined as a child, when power had seemed synonymous with freedom. time had taught a vastly different lesson, of chains and shackles and words swallowed like broken glass. a more subtle power, more stealthy, until she had decided that she did not much like living in shadows.

"le vrai pouvoir nécessite un équilibre que vous ne pouvez pas comprendre tant que vous ne le tenez pas dans votre patte," true power requires a balance you cannot understand until you hold it in your paw, she answers, instead, once more lifting a paw from the ground and turning her wrist, holding it open in the air. slowly she clenches it, tight, vivid eyes not straying from her sister's face "même un loup doit revêtir de temps en temps le manteau de sa proie." even a wolf must don the cloak of its prey from time to time.

Louve watches for understanding, curious if even in youth her sibling would grasp at the meaning of her words.

@Delphine

CODE•ART•BG

Curious, trained eyes watched her soeur as they conversed, intrigue swelling somewhere within the child’s chest as she soaked up each and every word that was offered in her direction. Much to the younger dieudonne’s disappointment, she did not get as much face-time with the matriarch as she would like – though she could not blame @Louve for this, not really. The dieudonne family had grown substantially over the last year and wolfbron was often terribly busy – it left little room for mundane things and chatter. That, at least, Delphine understood, which was why she greedily and wantonly embraced their time together now.

Her attention pricked, however, at the mention of the hunt; perhaps the most important event of her short, little life thus far. Delphine could not stop her eyes from widening somewhat, teeth flashing in a fleeting grin as she tilted her chin up towards. “pas assez tôt. tu nous appelleras quand ce sera le moment ?” not soon enough. you will call us when it's time? she pressed, images flashing across the forefront of her mind as she imagined what that day would be like. It was only then, after all, that she would be a true dieudonne, a force to be reckoned with all her own – or, at least that was what she told herself.

“équilibre,” balance, she echoed the keyword once louve had offered a reply to her final question, grappling with it for a moment or two as she mulled it over. It made sense that there was an ebb and flow to things – a scale of fate and justice that they could control, if they were smart enough – but it was the allusion to faux weakness that caught her off guard most. The babe’s brows furrowed instinctively at the concept, lips pursing, as she asked: “mais tu ne me sembles pas vraiment une proie. Comment une faiblesse, réelle ou fausse, peut-elle vous être bénéfique ?” but you don't strike me much as prey. how can weakness, real or fake, benefit you at all?

"tu sauras le moment où il viendra," she answers, elusive even in this, "ma convocation ne sera guère nécessaire." you will know the moment when it comes, my summons will scarcely be necessary. of course she would call them, but louve remembers the night of her own hunt all too well. she had woken before the call for the hunt, her entire body wired for that one exact moment.

there is a flicker of that old excitement as she looks at delphine, sees the same enthusiasm written in to her expression. certainly she has little doubt that her sister will succeed as the others have, that she will earn her name and stand alongside the rest. the only question was -- what would she do with it?

"pas de faiblesse," not weakness she corrects, and her tone is patient, her willingness to teach evident, "mais seulement l'illusion de la complaisance." but only the illusion of complacence. louve pauses, mulls over her thoughts, fitting them together in a way that might make sense to her young sibling. "si nous sommes trop effrontés avec nos forces, ils ne s'arrêteront pas jusqu'à ce qu'ils nous voient ruinés." if we are too brazen with our strength they will not stop until they see us ruined. she watches @Delphine closely, looking for understanding. "même la force de Dieudonné ne peut résister aux forces combinées de l'amaryllis. alors, parfois, il faut jouer gentiment. nous devons cacher nos dents, gainer nos griffes et jouer le jeu." even the strength of the dieudonne cannot stand against the combined forces of amaryllis. so, sometimes, we must play nice. we must hide our teeth and sheath our claws and play the game.

a flash of her teeth as she adds -- "mais pendant tout ce temps, nous n’oublions jamais qui détient le véritable pouvoir." but all the while we never forget who holds the true power.

CODE•ART•BG

“je n'aime pas les jeux,” i don’t like games. she sighed after a moment of listening, though her next words were quick to follow suit in order to not sound as though she were resisting @Louve's guidance. “mais je comprends.” but i understand. Delphine supposed that if the rest of the world was intent on wearing masks, the dieudonne had to do the same, at least to some extent – politics had never been of any interest to her, not in the way of faux pleasantries and silly titles, but there was little choice when her family held the reigns of wolfbron and their legacy so tightly. Perhaps it was just the way that the world worked, she concluded. “comment savoir qui joue au même jeu avec nous?” how do we know who is playing the same game with us? or maybe there was no way, she could not be sure – but the curious glint in the yearling’s gaze denoted the seriousness of the question, almost as if she feared being made a fool by someone who would use this trick against her or her family. Delphine was many things, but a fool was not one that would bode well with her.

Like a sweet little sponge did she soak up these moments spent with her soeur, her co-matriarch – nose wrinkled ever-so slightly as she mulled these thoughts, these concepts, around within her still juvenile mind. Their family was nothing if not formidable, she knew that much, but as she continued to grow, and to age, she realized more and more just how messy it all was. “j'espère faire plus la famille. je suis jeune, je sais, mais je n'aime pas rester inactif.” i hope to do more the family. i'm young, i know, but i don't like being idle. She was not quite sure why she said it now, but Delphine found the words falling from her lips amongst the momentary silence that spread between them. It was not hard to deduce that, after falling from royalty following Amara’s defeat, the ex-princess had been a phantom, of sorts – haunting the bluffs in search for newfound purpose amongst the many faces of her kin. She did not expect anything from Louve (not particularly, anyways) but simply wanted to voice herself, here and now, while she had the chance. She did not want her loyalty going unnoticed, after all.

"non," she agreed, with a smile that twisted her lips in a wry sort of expression, "moi non plus." neither do i. for a long time she had railed against the weight of politics, thinking nothing of any desire to rise further than the shiny princess crown she had once worn. Until her own seour had sought to take more power, and Louve had realized that it was something she needed to do.

once the heiress title had been hers she had been ravenous for more, knowing that one day she would take the throne for herself. knowing that one day she would have to fight her own mother to have it.

as for the game? "ne donnez pas votre confiance facilement. pas tant qu'il n'est pas mérité. les alliances peuvent être formées avec des mots, mais elles ne sont vraiment réelles que lorsqu'elles sont baptisées dans le sang." do not give your trust out easily. not until it is earned. alliances can be formed with words but they are not truly real until they are baptized in blood.

oh and the lust for power and glory is there, isn't it? in sweet delphine there was a promise of something great. "entraînez-vous dur, alors. tous les jours. alors quand tu seras assez grand..." train hard, then. every day. so when you are old enough... you can take the power you deserve -- this much is said with only a grin. there is an offer there, too, if the young girl wished to take it.

art