Amara moved from the Bluffs and into the Dunes. She hadn't been to the lands in a long time and she was feeling the need to get out. Her mate had come and then left again. Her daughters were coming and going without much thought of what it might do to the family, at least that is what she thought, and there was something simmering under the flesh of those within the Bluffs. In many ways, she was more alone now than she had been before she had found her way to what would become her new family.

With a huff, she slipped into the first cave she came across. The weather had been warm, and then the cold snap came in and she found herself more annoyed with the snow falling than she used to be. Age did that, she guessed. Amara moved into the cave, shaking the snow from her coat. It wasn't a deep cave, but there was enough of it to explore for a bit.

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He knows he'll never be the same. He doubts anyone could walk away from that at his age without carrying the burden of a battle overfought, a fight he should not have won. Kvare Tollaire now walks with a limp, faltering where he should not falter, though he dares not let it show. Death has been staved from its due, and for now, he has brought himself much-needed time.

But he knows he is a fraction of the man he once was.

Weeks ago he felt like a boy again, looking upon Amaryllis with a new face, as if for the very first time. But now, he bares the countenance of an old, haggard king, whose crown slipped through his fingers, clinking on the floor until it stopped at the feet of another.

In this, at least, he is not alone.

Kvare is laying in a small alcove just above her, forelegs draping over the side of the edge, his head lifting as her shadowy, starkissed form comes into view. The air in the hideaway is hot and still, likely keeping them from noticing each other until she's just below him. He has little intention of moving, however—he's too sore to do anything more than stare.

He remembers this one. He would be a fool not to.

Amara, he greets with a low rumble, a single rounded ear swiveling in her direction. Was she one of yours?

Boldly, the elephant in the room rears its head.

Kvare has never been known for his subtlety.

Had Miaran been an ally? A friend? Had he killed one of their own?

---

@Amara

Art by Yumpy, table by cala

Her eyes adjust and she starts to be able to see the differences in the cave she had walked into. There was a scent, slightly familiar, lingering, and as she placed it she heard his voice. Amara slowly turned her golden gaze toward the male that was above her, not the most ideal position but Amara was sure she could take him. He was likely still healing and Amara had taken on far worse, she was sure of that. Kvare. She put the name to the face and scent once again. It had been some time. She knew his family lines, they seemed to come and go but there was a strength in them. She did know that much. She had never really figured out where things stood as far as their treatment towards women but Hanneth seemed to think highly enough about the few run-ins that she had with the bronze lioness and she doubted the wallflower would be able to thrive in a family that looked to crush their females.

Not really. I think my daughter thought her a friend but she is used to losing them. She wasn't really sure what it was that Louve saw but it was something. Even still, friends didn't linger long when you had a crown on your head and everyone wanted something from you. What was your reason to risk your life for someone not in your family? Amara would never risk her life for anyone outside of the family. She didn't understand the reason behind it.

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She greets him with the same taciturn, cold courtesy he offered her. But there is nothing antagonistic about the way he regards her, fiery eyes roving over her and assessing every slender curve, honed musculature betraying the age that lives in her starlight eyes. She, likely, feels the same as him—bogged down by their own mortality but refusing to let it hinder them. Wounded like he is, however, Kvare knows better than to think he can win in this fight.

Mercifully, it is not a fight he seeks.

Not really, she admits with a casualness that almost eases him. Kvare is unafraid of making enemies, but he knows just how powerful of an enemy he would have made of her. I think my daughter thought her a friend but she is used to losing them.

He smirks, lifting a brow. He knows well just what that is like.

What was your reason to risk your life for someone not in your family?

Kvare pauses, thoughtfulness replacing the near-humored look he bore before. At the time, he had done it in the name of justice, but now that the dust has settled and his blind rage has abated, can he truly say he did it for his ally? Or that he was simply doing the world a favor by removing one more blight, when another very well might come to replace her?

She wanted an easy fight, and I wasn't going to give her one, he finally says, before rising to his feet, and leaping from the alcove. He landed on his paws before Amara with a breathy, pained grunt. She took Caladan from my queen. She gave me this scar— he motions to the long stretch of hewn flesh stretching across his face, —and her existence irritated me.

He squares his shoulders, reclining back onto his haunches, with the casualness of a man who had not just committed murder.

Likewise, I need that alliance with the Savante. My daughter is to marry the very man she wanted to kill.

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@Amara

Art by Yumpy, table by cala

Amara watches him closely and listens as he takes in what she says and asks and it seems that he didn't know the answer right away. Odd. She watched as he spoke and then moved. An easy fight. Amara wasn't really sure who it was that had been called to the match so she took the words at face value. She had nothing to say otherwise. He settled in front of her and her eyes roamed over his body, taking in the new and old wounds. The pattern of his wounds showed that he had been through enough to know that he was a survivor.

The Cove. That is right. Amara was less plugged in but was able to keep up enough to know there had been a change and it must have been this lioness. I wasn't aware that a pride challenge was reason enough for death, but maybe it should be. Amara wouldn't be against killing a few of the males she had fought against. The scar adds to your charm I am sure. Amara had managed to keep her face untouched over the years, at least nothing large enough to stand out and it mostly all looked like her star pattern. These... She motions to the large scars that ripped across her chest and legs. Were given by family that sought to remove the lands of my lineage. History is written by the victor and Amara had no reason to not make sure it all was in her favor. She gave a smirk at the mention that the lioness's existence irritated him. Oh if that was enough of a reason on its own, there would be far more bodies in my wake and not just two.

Savante. That was a name that caused annoyance to rumble through her. I wonder why your family has never approached mine. You are aware of us, yes? Our strength. Our loyalty. Our views? She watched him. Now was her chance to find out about his family more, to learn what she could about the Tollaire family. It was also a test to see how much he may know. Did he know Hanneth? Amara was aware that Hanneth was aware of her family and all that they did. It had been strange how the lioness had accepted it when told but she had and without skipping a beat wanted to learn more about Ambro. Did Hanneth tell others about them? Her tail flicked lightly behind her as her features remained unmoved by their talks, so far.

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I wasn't aware that a pride challenge was reason enough for death.

Oh, if only she knew. Kvare, however, remains silent, preferring not to overindulge her with stories of years past. Nor did he care to reveal his own shortcomings as a king.

But maybe it should be.

He laughs. What can I say? I am possessive of my women.

If Yuna were to hear him say that, she might very well smack him. Though Kvare has never strayed beyond a few flirtations, he had truly seen her as one of his—a pridemate, a queen, a friend. And he would never feel ill of her for letting Caladan fall into Miaran's clutches.

The scar adds to your charm I am sure.

He lifts a brow, but says nothing. Instead, a small, wolfish smile settles on his lips.

These... she says, and Kvare's gaze follows hers down to the scars that litter her frame, cutting through the furl of star-kissed fur. Were given by family that sought to remove the lands of my lineage.

Suddenly, his smile disappears. In its place, a tight-lipped frown, troubled by the idea of family attacking family. While the Tollaire were never known for their level heads, they were fiercely loyal to one another, resolving their differences through whatever chaotic and uncouth manner they might be still doing just that—staying loyal in the end.

Betrayal is Kvare's greatest fear.

It is good, then, that you were the victor.

Mercifully, the easy mood prior returns, and he finds himself suddenly guffawing in reply. He is once again reminded that he is not the only murderer that walks these hallowed halls.

Two is still twice as many as I, he purrs, inclining his head in her direction.

I wonder why your family has never approached mine.

He blinks, but doesn't move back. Instead, he watches her with rapt attention, wondering why he hasn't asked himself those same questions.

You are aware of us, yes? she continues, Our strength. Our loyalty. Our views?

I am. Any king of Amaryllis who did not know was not worth their weight in salt. There are few names that will go down in history. Kvare can only hope that his will be remembered, too. I also know how different we are from one another.

Kvare utilized pawns in his political game as any king would, but when it came to the Dieudonne, he always found himself empty-handed. He had nothing to offer them that they would want, and he would never forge an alliance without a promise made in blood.

How could I expect any of your daughters to marry any of my sons, when their values would clash so deeply? It would be a punishment to them both, as Kvare would no sooner fetter one of his children to monogamy as he would try to force it upon the Dieudonne. I respect the size and strength of your family, but I also know when our differences are too dividing.

He pauses, thoughtful.

That does not mean, however, that I did not think about approaching you.

---

@Amara

Art by Yumpy, table by cala

Possessive. That was something that Amara once knew. Had seen in her first mate. He had fought many for her to protect her and while she knew that she had the upper hand, few outside of their relationship likely knew that if they saw how fiercely he would do what needed to be done. It was such a long time ago and now it was her that had the possessive nature. Over her land. Her cubs. Her home.

Her words pull a wolfish smile on his features. Males. Stroke their ego a little and they just can't help but react and as soon as things turned back to Amara, his features lost the smile. Indeed. She smirks. Her line wasn't perfect but it was here and it was thriving. The others, well, they had nothing left that she was aware of. It hadn't been what she wanted but it is how things ended up.

The heat of the cave seemed to have pushed all the cold from her but with the pair of them standing here, she was able to catch his scent fully. She was able to see him and found that she was not uncomfortable being so near him, which was abnormal enough but maybe it was solely the fact that she knew he was weaker and that was enough to give her a little thrill. You still have time to take another if you wish. Amara wasn't sure if it was on his list of things to do or not. Taking a life was something she did often but she wouldn't tell him that. Let him think that her kill count was just a simple two.

She hummed slightly at his words. It didn't tell her everything she needed to know about his family, only that he seemed to have some level of her own. That he had thought about approaching her... or was it her family he spoke of? She studied him for a moment. Tell me. She took a step forward, her golden gaze locked on his orange and silver gaze. What are those values? Those differences? It seems that you know more about my family than I know of yours. That seemed unfair now didn't it? Amara didn't move again, not yet at least as she watched him. Her gaze searching, seeking, for what, she didn't know but hopefully she would know when she saw it.

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You still have time to take another if you wish.

If only he did.

Kvare does not speak it into existence, but he's been unable to shake the strange feeling of impending doom—and he's uncertain yet if he is ready to make peace with it. He had aspirations of power upon his return to Amaryllis, hoping that any of his sons might have clawed their way to power or, at the very least, found security among friends and allies. But he had not anticipated a quiet, peaceful retirement; he still had many years ahead of him, and have every ache for the role of a king or advisor once more.

Kvare Tollaire was frightened of feeling weak.

But his fight with Miaran has reminded him of his own mortality. And in a way, too, it has given him the closure he needs to know he's done more for his legacy than most others can claim. It is a position he's certain Amara, out of anyone, understands.

She has worked tirelessly to secure the legacy of her family, too.

Tell me, she begins, and he blinks out of his reverie. What are those values? Those differences?

Some would argue that we forcibly claim the weak, treat our women as lesser, eat our young. Accusations he's certain even his own children have thrown in fits of rage, once or twice. But the truth is, we are simply efficient. We claim strongholds to grow our families, we spread our influence through meticulous alliances and marriage pacts, and—above anything—we protect our own.

He pauses.

We are dragons, however, he begins, lifting his fiery gaze to hers of starlight. And our appetite is never sated.

Oh—if only he knew of the Dieudonne's deeper, darker secrets.

At the time, I suppose I thought our differences were too great to ignore, he admits, furrowing his brows, I did not have anything to offer that you might have wanted, and promises and honor are but dust in the wind in times such as these.

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@Amara

Art by Yumpy, table by cala