The ice queen loved to poke her nose in places it didn't belong. The war had been a disappointment, but worst of all Icefang learned that two of her rather important members had been taken. Warriors were her priority, but even she knew that the medics helped keep them alive. Maimed tail lashes behind her as she steps out of the grove and into the scare landscape of Ilere's freeze. Her right eye remains on high alert as she treks through the area, a slight shiver rolling down her spine at the drastic temperature change. It made her grateful for the trees that protected the brook from the harsh winds of this terrain. She was allowed to be here, but knew she needed to be careful the closer she made her way towards the summit, attempting to track down an inkling of @Melusina's scent. The Vermedan queen was injured from her fight and between that sudden change in her life and the birth of her cubs, other plans such as taking the tiny medic had been on the back burner. At the very least, she needed to check up on the girl and ensure she was being taken care of in the prison. She was unsure how she would do that considering it was harder to waltz into the summit with only half her vision. For now, she was settling on becoming familiar with the path to and from the brook - in case she decided to be risky and attempt a jailbreak instead.

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o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

For all her distaste for her predicament, her imprisonment in the Summit had been the best she's endured. Ugh. There mere thought that she's had enough experiences to rank them made her stomach turn. She could not tell if it was the air of grating animosity she emanates that keeps would-be guards away, or if they had been deliberately ordered to leave her be.

But Illyria was still a prison. If for no other reason than being so...lonely.

Despite Alaric's best attempts she has refused sight or word of him. Each desperate plea was met with a back turned, each attempt to comfort met with shoves and kicks and screams. She is at first a petulant child in the throes of a tantrum, but as her bitter boycott continues without a single sliver of reprieve, their efforts grow less and less fervent.

Every once in a while, she is given the mercy of slipping away.

She's gathering herbs. No matter her distaste for her own craft, there is something of a peace in its redundancy. With winter swiftly-approaching and the Summit being the first target of its wrath, Melusina had plenty of need for herself. Her haste for freedom was not borne of anything but that, even if she knew it was likely something she would have to take for herself.

She would not survive an Illyrian winter.

Thus, when she spots @Icefang ♔, of all lions, trudging through the freeze just down the hill from her, Melusina quickly turns and races toward her. Torre's fretful, screeching cries announce her presence as the medic skids to a stop just before the Queen.

Icefang, she breathes, bewildered, her voice markedly hushed.

Something was different. Off. Melusina's brows knit thoughtfully as trained eyes scrutinize until—oh. Fuck.

Icefang, fuck.

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Lost in her thoughts and plots, she does not take notice of @Melusina in the distance searching the hill for herbs. She strides forward, preoccupied for a brief moment, but it is all that is needed to catch her off guard. The screech of her pet slashes through the air first, Icefang stopping with a sudden jolt as a lioness charges her. Ears pin back and she braces herself for the attack ready to launch forward, knowing the day would come that she would have to defend herself with this new disability. Get a taste of what Renozuri must of experienced, but she still had an upper hand on him. One working eye. She just didn't expect this day to come so soon. But then the voice gasps out her name and as Melusina skids to a stop in front of her, she is broken out of her feral trance to recognize the tiny girl.

Icefang's own eye scrutinizes her for any signs of injury or illness. She seemed fine...for a prisoner. A smirk tugs at her ebony lips, ivory crown tilting slightly to the right. "Well...that was easier than expected." She didn't have to expend the resources to march into the summit and drag the medic out herself. Instead, she was right here and as far as Icefang's limited vision could tell - she was alone. "Have they harmed you?" She asks, tempted to push this conversation for later and nudge the girl in direction of her true home. Of course, she is well aware at the shock she must be experiencing at the sudden glassiness of her left eye. Most of the pride had a similar reaction, but none had been as ballsy as Melusina to comment on it directly. Under different circumstances, she wouldn't of started with the pleasantries, but there was no telling if a patrol was on its way to find its missing prisoner. If they had been giving her attention, good or bad, Icefang wanted to know if she needed to expect the worst case scenario.

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o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

Well...that was easier than expected.

So painfully casual—not at all like the grieving and crying and embracing she once knew. When she'd first turned back up on Ecrosia's borders after her imprisonment in Andal, she'd been met with sobs and too-tight hugs and promises that it'll never happen again. They had all been empty promises. Luther took over the Mire not long after, and Melusina had once again found herself in shackles.

@Icefang ♔, on the other hand, levels her gaze with a cold focus, invading and prying and searching for answers. If there was any shred of guilt or grief or anger, the Vermedan Queen did not show it, exercising a level of control that made Melusina envious.

Have they harmed you?

I haven't let anyone's who wanted to.

She wouldn't divulge further—they hadn't the time, and it was not so important that Icefang need to know right then. She had no pride secrets to divulge, nor any insight to threats of war or retribution. Melusina was kept blissfully in the dark, but in this moment, it gave her a distinct clarity on what was truly important now.

I can't fix your sight but I can try to save the eye, she admits with a pointed frown, her gaze scrutinizing the wound's every detail. It was still fresh enough that the threat of infection could steal the whole eye, but if she could clean it now, and wrap a poultice into the wound, then it might just heal a bit faster, a bit healthier. Faolán and Freja will know what to do after.

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I haven't let anyone's who wanted to.

"Good," she gives her a smile - a rarity. "Though I wouldn't of minded adding a few Illyrian eyes to my score." But who was keeping track? Obviously she. She might of been all jokes and giggles today, considering the circumstances, but Icefang had gone back to the Brook seething. Most of the trees in the grove had suffered her fury with extreme claw marks embedded in nearly every one. She had stopped once her paw ached, but even then she had not been satisfied. Most of them had lost and pitifully she had observed her failure of an army. They had been lucky they needed healing, otherwise she might of thrown a few into the pit with her.

Their conversation shifts back to a sore spot. Icefang rumbles, disapproving the fact they even needed to address that she had lost a fight. Just like her tail and ear, it was hard to hide the injuries. Though she had not considered the possibility that the organ was at risk of needing permanent removal from her face. "Fine," she rumbles "Not that I can use it anyways. I didn't think I'd be on the path to dying like my mate." Blind. A cruel joke in the wake of her anger, but promptly the ice queen takes a seat to let the girl do her thing. She was a good patient, when she wanted to be. She had done her best not to paw at the burning pain every time her cuts itched and burned.

Faolán and Freja will know what to do after.

"Freja is gone," she states a growl lingering in her throat. "The Lagoon stole her. Seems I need to be the one doing all the fighting." Another jab, though unknown to her that @Melusina had been the one to lose the fight for her own freedom.

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o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

@Icefang ♔ smiles, and so does Melusina. Once she would have been horrified by the sentiment, the idea of fighting and maiming and machinating. But now, the idea of loosing a few eyes from certain deserving parties feels like justice, and it is a satisfying thrill that she no longer fights hiding. However, she is swiftly returning to her work, and begins to pull certain herbs from the bundles she'd been collecting and chew them into a rudimentary poultice. Above head, the sharp-eyed Torre kept out for any sign of a patrol, his silent flight marked by continued safety and seclusion, but it did not stop Melusina from working fast.

Fine. Not that I can use it anyways. Icefang mumbles as Melusina works, and the medic briefly pauses, gaze lifting to regard the bitterness in her Queen's expression. I didn't think I'd be on the path to dying like my mate.

You won't, Melusina retorts, before returning to her work; kneading carefully, adding just another pinch of crushed leaves, ensuring the mixture is spread evenly on a leaf. It was something of an art, and she was a master of its craft. You choose how you die. A dead man can't take that from you.

It takes only minutes for her work to be done, but it is makeshift at best. Melusina can only hope that they had stronger bandaging back in Vermeda; but the medicating in of itself would be enough to brighten the bleak odds. After carefully and methodically cleaning the dirt and dried blood from Icefang's wounds, she carefully began to press the wrap of poultice against her eye, securing it to her head as a makeshift patch that would fall off on its own before the next morning.

It wasn't perfect. Hopefully it would be enough.

Freja is gone, Icefang continues, and Melusina stiffens. The Lagoon stole her. Seems I need to be the one doing all the fighting.

Melusina's lips press into a firm, thin line.

There is a woman in the Lagoon—Magdalena, my sister, she breathes, and her heart begins to thrum in her chest. If you take her—if my father knows you took her—it just might be enough.

She wonders if Icefang can see the fire sparking to life.

I'm sure the Lagoon's Queen would want one of her lionesses back in return for Freja. As for me— Her gaze flits down to her hands, covered in herbs and snow and blood. —is there a more equal trade than a sister for a sister?

---

Melusina is attempting to heal Icefang's wounds.

Rolling 1d10: 3

Rolling 1d10: 5

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@Melusina works fast and Icefang sits patiently, occasionally her right eye drifts towards the sky at her pet when its shadow casts over them. She grunts at the medic's reply ignoring the urge to curl her lip every time the paste is applied and stings at the cuts. She recalls sensing Harou's hot breath on her cornea right before his fangs plunged into the organ creating enough damage to cloud her vision and turn it forever dark. She knew nothing could be done to restore her sight, but she wondered what she might look like once it healed. At least she had the brook's reflective surface to check herself out. Once the bandage is on, the queen flashes the younger female a grin. "Tell me nurse, how do I look? Devastatingly beautiful?" Maybe Mel would question who had taken her usually solemn queen and replaced her with this jester.

She senses the stiffening of her body followed by the firm line of disapproval. Torn and natural ear flip forward at the mention of a sister within the Lagoon. "I did not realize you had family there," she states realizing it is a pitiful mistake to assume it had only been her and Nikandr. That they might of both been newcomers to Amaryllis. She had not heard of Magdalena before, but Icefang smirks at the plot that Melusina is unraveling before her. What had happened to the feeble, sickly girl that she picked up from the passage? Seemed they both had hidden sides that they were now showing each other. "Hm, that is a clever ultimatum indeed. Well, if Cassius does not get her back...then it looks like I will need to do that." A small tilt of the head as she glances over her, eye flickering down to her dirty outheld paws. "Though what stops me from just dragging you back with me now? It doesn't seem like the Summit cares to keep an eye on their prisoners." They might of only been out here for thirty minutes, but Icefang was surprised that alarm bells hadn't sounded off from the top of the peak. The girl had also brought up an interesting topic as well - "Who is your father?" Was it a man that Icefang happened to know?

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o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

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Tell me nurse, how do I look? Devastatingly beautiful?

Melusina can't hide the small, amused smile that flits to her lips as she answers: Powerful.

Women like them had a different kind of beauty. Something untamed, untethered, half-wild. Their scars did not lower their value; it drove fear in the hearts of their enemies and awe in in their allies. Melusina bore none of her own, but long had she come to discover the hardened, undone look in her eye.

She wipes her paws and begins to gather up what materials she'd left to spare for the journey back to Illyria. Torre, sensing Melusina's urgency, plummeted into a surveying swoop around the perimeter. Their chances of getting caught unlikely, and Melusina doubted even further that she'd be in any real trouble. The most of Illyria likely thought her nothing more than a petulant child throwing a tantrum in the wake of her father's yank of the leash.

I did not realize you had family there, @Icefang ♔ breathes through the silence, and Melusina stiffens.

My mother was once a Queen of Scilla, she states bitterly, for there's nothing softer she can spare for Tinúviel. She had died as she had lived—so very afraid. My father a King of Ecrosia.

She was once a Stärke. Alaric's youngest daughter, princess by the sea, gentle and sweet and beloved. But then Aeistrios happened, and Luther happened. Tinúviel died. Alaric died. And a piece of her died along with them. Now she was Melusina the manipulator. Melusina the liar.

Her lips press into a firm, thin line at Icefang's approval of her plan, but even she cannot hide the small sound of her breath as she sucks in. She's long resigned herself to the possibility that no help was coming, that it was up to her to break herself free; she would have easily chocked it up to a better use of resources, to Icefang making the necessary calls. What she does not expect, however, is the bitter curl in her stomach at the mention of his name.

Cassius had gone for Freja first.

Though what stops me from just dragging you back with me now?

Why deprive them of a challenge? she replies, leveling her gaze with Icefang's. There's bones I have yet to pick.

She's still not yet looked her father in the eye since she got here. She wanted to prolong that moment, what had initially been out of fear was now done to savor that moment when it came.

Who is your father?

Alaric Stärke.

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Powerful.

Icefang's face curves into a big grin. Exactly how she wanted to look. Perfect.

With their time together coming to an end, she watches @Melusina pack up the items she had scattered in order to provide medical care as she works on placing them back into her pouch. She notices the girl stiffen and the queen glances around for a moment, assuming she might of missed signs of a patrol. There is nothing, though the owl sweeps the area lower now and she hopes the bird doesn't miscalculate and swoop into her.

My mother was once a Queen of Scilla.

Like Cassius?

My father a King of Ecrosia.

Perhaps not.

She is left in the dark about the tiny girl's past. Icefang does not know the gruesome details of what has made Melusina the fierce, tiny woman she is today. Perhaps if she had known, she would of ushed the girl to her chest. If only to tell her that all is okay. Icefang was here and she would teach Melusina how to vanquish the demons that plagued her. But instead, the queen continues to sit in front of her waiting for the next words to tumble out into the air.

Why deprive them of a challenge? There's bones I have yet to pick.

She is silent as their eyes meet. She nods. "Ah. This is personal then." Though slightly it irritates her. She had come out here searching for an easy way to snatch her medic back and alas here they were. Uninterrupted. Undisturbed, yet she didn't want to leave because she had fights to pick. Icefang wanted to roll her eyes, but she stands up instead and shakes off the bit of frost that has gathered on her pelt. "In that case, try not to take too long. You're missed." She references to herself since Icefang hated when her members were taken from her, but most importantly her words also hint at a young man lingering in the Brook that the queen had noticed seemed quite upset at Melusina's prison sentence.

Alaric Stärke.

Her crown tilts. She knew another sired by this man. Luther Rike. She considers clarifying, to ask if they are indeed siblings or distinctly related, but Luther was no longer a King of the Mire. He was just a name now living under Andal Oasis. Perhaps she should discuss what she knows, but the queen was often tight lipped when it came to her politics and so she dismisses these thoughts. "How intriguing. He was my king once," though her time living in the Mire had been brief.

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o forget theories of sorrow / & hellfire & brimstone at the final circle of the earth: / if I must believe in anything, I choose this

---

She could spend ages discussing her mother and father with @Icefang ♔, she suspects. She knew the Queen was perhaps the one woman in the world who would not judge Melusina for feeling such dejection and hatred. She would understand the overprotective tether Tinúviel had put on her daughter, and how Alaric had been just as complicit when he'd spirited her away to Illyria in spite of her protest.

In that case, try not to take too long. You're missed.

A small, reassuring smile flits to her lips, but it is gone in an instant. The warmth remains, a lingering heat that settles on her cheeks, something between relief and satisfaction that both the Queen and Nikandr wanted her back. Yet, the leash was not so tight that she felt the pull of its yank, and though there was irritation in Icefang's remark, there is trust that Melusina will come back. And Melusina would—she will return to Vermeda, even if she must kill to do it.

So she nods; firm, assured.

But then she thinks of her father.

How intriguing. He was my king once.

She blinks, trying to recall a time she might have seen Icefang in the Mire, if they'd ever crossed paths. Melusina had spent the vast majority of her childhood on the shores of Scilla, and had only been within the Mire for a few weeks when she was first captured into the Oasis. Months were spent in that grueling desert before she was finally freed, but just as she took her first unfettered steps back in Ecrosia, her brother usurped their Kingfather, and Melusina became a prisoner once more.

To lay it out so clearly, her life suddenly seemed so insignificant. No unworthwhile.

She vows to make it better. Worthy of a soldier.

I'll tell you everything, she declares, before rising to her paws. Once I'm free, I'll tell you everything.

Then, she is gone; and not a moment too soon, for the sound of a distract patrol would have ended any time they'd had left.

---

Exit Melusina.

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