- his laugh, bitter as nightshade ;

Wishful thinking. The concept wasn't unfamiliar to Tamir, he'd based his entire life around it—through Mother. She alone was the definitive of his thinking, of the wishes he made, the desires he'd part with. While he was cold and calculated, meticulous in everything, it all fell on his backbone. He valued and trusted Mother's blessings and honors with little to no question, simply a brushstroke to the canvas amidst many more. It explained his patience with the lamb at his side, gleeful and eager as she was to begin a new life.

He admired the woman for it and envied her willingness to accept change. He was more attached, more inclined to keep to the plans he'd set out. That plan didn't include this world, so while he didn't believe it to be a curse, there was certainly some trepidation in the way he walked around the topic. Estelle was poor proof of that. He was cautious of her, sure, but her cluelessness and loneliness were ultimately the only reasons he'd extended an offer for her to join him in the first place. He supposed he might regret it later, but later had yet to come.

The lamb, herself, and her incessant need to wander around him as they walked were teetering on the tightrope of his patience. As much as he wanted to stop and ridicule her, there were things to do, men he needed to speak to in order for Estelle to stay at all. The thought only seemed to encourage him more, but he kept his pace. Limbs moved in a languid stretch similar to that of a buck, or an elk in a rut—purposeful and eager, but in no complete hurry.

With a brief but concerning gaze passed over Estelle, he'd finally parted through a grove of trees, pines littering the forest's floor as he sought out Faust amidst the green. The heat of the ground seeped into his pads, a gentle coo of solace from his Mother, he'd presume. It instilled enough confidence in the man should Faust decide to leave Estelle. He had high hopes for the dame and he'd promised her a family, a promise he'd intended to keep. Tamir would be her voice—an advocate. He wouldn't leave her alone.

---

@Estelle + @Faust

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Like a moon caught in the orbit of a celestial body, Estelle made her rounds all the while never going too far from Tamir's side. The smells, the sights, the sounds, she soaked them all in. It didn't help that Tamir was quiet as they walked, nothing for her to grab on to and keep her attention when the others that surrounded them were more interesting. As boring as it was, it didn't quite bother her either. She had already learned that he was a man of few words, it just meant that the excitement of a whole new world to discover would easily steal her attention for a little while from him.

Almost losing him through the pine trees Estelle was quick to fix it by following at his heels. The vale was a maze with many little nooks as far as the eye can see. Certainly there had to be some treasures tucked within their crevices just waiting to be found. She wanted to ask him where they were going, if they were meeting someone - but chose to keep that question to herself for now. Whatever was going to happen, surely it would happen soon.

At least, she hopped it out. The waiting was beginning to weigh on her, a mild itch of impatience seeding itself into her thoughts. With the way he looked at her just moments ago, all she could do in response was a slow wag of her tail and continue to follow Tamir when he continued without a word. It had to be soon, she could feel it. Like the long climb to the top of a rollercoaster, the queezy feeling in her belly grew with anticipation for the inevitable... whatever that would be.

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The titan had descended from the mountain. With heavy steps, he had seen the speckle of Tamir's dark fur at the summit. But what he hadn't seen was the wolfess standing beside him, small and fragile compared to his Shadowsinger.

Curious, Faust would call out to him. "What did you bring home today, brother?"

His question was humorous, light. Not meant for aggressive sentiments. A light smile found its way on his face, too, when he approached Tamir. He rounded him on the side opposing from the small girl. With curled cheek fur, she stood out in the light, the stark green of the grass. She looked poised even for such a young age.

Faust would hum, urging his Shadowsinger to relinquish his judgement of this girl to him.

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There was a hymn of familiarity in the back of Tamir's mind, a calling as the man in question spoke out amidst the quietness of the clearing. The Spymaster cast a sidelong glance at the woman idling behind him, still so enraptured in the scenery around her. His lips pulled into a small smile, but it wasn't for her, instead for his lifelong friend.

“Iā lamb tolī besotted lēda se scenery than nyke, iksan zūgagon. Nyke found zirȳla mirrī ways jelmor hen kesīr. She needed a home.” — A lamb more besotted with the scenery than me, I'm afraid. I found her a little ways north of here. The man would've answered, a soft laugh leaving him as he bumped the hip of the dark female, urging her forward along with him.

Once her attention was grasped, he met Faust halfway, standing idly as the other cast his own silent judgment on the woman. “She is smart, aren't you? A little dirty, too.” He'd add in a slow jest, plucking a twig from her mane with his teeth just to prove his point. “She will do well. Once language is learned.” The shadow's head tilted, gaze lifting from Estelle to turn to Faust's.

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Stylist skill

---

Just as water follows the stream, Estelle was no different. Tamir was the path carved out before her and she just followed it without question. Her eyes tore away from the landscape when another tall man approached. With his back coloured as brilliant as the sun.

The question was directed to Tamir, but Estelle smiled up at the two men. Casting a warm gaze to Tamir to see if he would introduce her, or if she should do so herself - not wanting to cut anyone off by speaking up out of turn. Tamir spoke up first, a language she didn't understand and so her mind wandered a little. A late season butterfly caught her eye, a brilliantly colourful monarch of which her head moved along with its path. Wanting to watch it for as long as she could - even maybe wanting to wander off and study it.

There was so much here she wanted to see - but for now was tethered by Tamir. Speaking of which, common tongue caught her attention and the man bumping against her brought the little lady back down to earth. Taking his cue, she stumbled forward. Hurrying herself and catching her footing before falling flat on her face. “I'm Estelle, sir.” She offered a quick curtsy. head bowing with her front half lowering in suit. The sway in her tail indicated that she was pleased to greet him in such a way, and didn't feel forced to.

She is smart, Tamir started and she nodded. “I learn quickly!” It came with a curious mind. But her poise and grace fell flat as soon as sticks and leaves were pulled from her hair and warmth flooded her face.

Oh how embarrassing! “Tamir you didn't say I wasn't presentable!” Scrambling she perched herself up to sit on her back legs, front ones occupying themselves by raking claws through the fur around her neck, anywhere she could reach to try and tidy herself up. “This is so embarrassing...” If wolves could sweat she'd be sweating buckets, instead, it was just her paws feeling a little uncomfortably moist.

Was it suddenly warm out?

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Faust hummed as he listened to Tamir, his eyes glancing towards this little lamb. She had been focused on something else. The butterfly passed by her face. Faust would glance at it, too, only for the simple fact that she hadn't been paying attention. Maybe it was only because she didn't understand them, their language, but his eyes still narrowed.

The little lamb had a name. Estelle. A name from the stars. Faust nodded. "Faust. I hope you are well, Estelle."

The titan would ask but continued to listen. She can learn. Anyone could learn. Estelle practically jumped back and forth with immature excitement. She couldn't be more than a year. Maybe a little more. With her abundance of energy, Faust didn't even notice all the twigs and leaves sticking out of her fur. Puzzled, Faust wouldn't say anything.

He waited for a brief moment for the girl to get herself together. To make herself more...presentable, he supposed. Not that he cared all that much. In the mean time, he looked towards his Shadowsinger once more. His words were cool, short. "Ao gōntan sȳrī, lēkia." — You did well, brother.

Estelle continued to utter things under her breath. Strange thing. "You are welcome to Velaris, Estelle."

Faust dipped his head. "You can pursue any trade you see fit." He'd declare. His eyes went from the mahogany girl to Tamir once more. "Jiōragon zirȳla mirri havor." — Get her some food.

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Tamir stared at Estelle with a bewildered expression, utterly astonished by her maturity. He found it endearing, useful even, but he didn't realize it was to this extent. Nevertheless, it meant she was impressionable, she could learn more easily the sooner they got started. He'd hoped anyway, but he assumed just as well that it would not be his sole responsibility to teach her. He doubted she'd find his trade entertaining by any means.

Faust's words were met with a nod of his own, head inclining towards his brethren while his chest warmed with pride for himself. He'd done well.

After the order given, Tamir let out a gruff sound, blinking lazily at Estelle as he awaited her to finish tidying and pay him mind. The man blinked in confusion. He hadn't realized it was his responsibility to make a comment on her appearance outside simply stating its...tendency to collect. He figured she knew, perhaps even preferred it. Regardless, he murmured his apologies despite the doubts lingering in his mind, chest heaving with a sigh.

“Come, Estelle. You must eat.” With that, he passed a stern look over his shoulder at the dame, nodding his own dismissal to Faust before he was beginning a languid pace away from the two. With as easily as she proved herself to become distracted, he was in no hurry to wait, assuming her legs could catch up to him instead.

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“And you, Sir Faust.” And just like that the other man was gone. Few of their exchanged words she understood and would let it slide - however had she known the thoughts of the other man, Faust, Estelle probably would have had a couple words for him to hear about her behaviour and his. Ignorance is bliss however and she would just think of him as the strong silent type!

Tamir beckoned her to follow him for food. “Coming!” And she'd bounce off after him. Come to think of it yeah, she did feel pretty famished now that the attention was drawn to it. It felt like she hadn't eaten anything in years!

As she trotted off after Tamir, hurried little paws to find pace with his. She couldn't help but wonder if she could wander and look at the world once she ate. See what was beyond the mountains, and within their confines as well.

After a thorough grooming session of course to make sure she no longer had twigs and leaves stuck in her fur to embarrass herself again in the face of others. “Any trade I see fit?” Tossing her head up and out to view the peaks, it was more of a question for herself than Tamir who accompanied her. What sort of trade was she interested in? Then it hit her, and the bounce in her step faded suddenly as she solemnly followed Tamir. Deep in thought as the racked an empty memory.

That didn't seem right.

Why couldn't she even think of her own likes? Surely she had some.

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He was still facing forward when Estelle finally matched his pace, head lifted as if she'd never seen the commonness of their Vale. He was bewildered and slightly confused at that, but he supposed it was another question for another day what with a new task at his hand.

He blew a breath and stopped for a mere moment, body inclining towards hers as his head ducked. “Language must be learned first. But...yes.” Tamir would've murmured in a dismissive tone as if that detail they could remedy come later moments. Moments he was sure they had, lest she was regretting the offer she'd accepted from him.

“If compassionate, you can be healer. Strong, you can be warrior. List is long.” He remarked gruffly before his shoulders turned and he began walking again, small glances cast at his side in case she'd murmur her desires. Truthfully, he didn't know what field she'd choose, what she found she might desire most. Tove knew better English than he, perhaps she could soothe the nerves of the dark dame, find her a duty satiable.

But for now, he was more concerned with the health of Estelle seeing as his distraction kept him from feeding her at all. His ears turned slightly while the freshly stale aroma of a rabbit rolled through his senses. He'd cost one more gaze her way before his steps hastened, impatience riding on the knobs of his spine.

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Language first Tamir said. Wasn't that a tall order? How long did they expect it would take her to pick up a new language? Still that didn't damper her mood. She would pick it up as quickly as she can and more so! She would study all night and day until she grasped enough that they were pleased with her and then surpass their expectations! She learned quickly after all. That's what Tamir said and that was what she promised Faust.

Estelle wouldn't disappoint.

Little pants escaped her as she followed after Tamir, her little legs struggling a little to keep up but she pushed on anyway. Nodding to his words as the list did indeed go on and on with possibilities. Briefly she wondered which would best fit her. The idea of her being a strong warrioress did please her, but even now Estelle knew that it wasn't really in the cards for her.

Then she stopped.

A stillness in the air as an aroma hit her senses. Alarms went off - she couldn't quite understand it. What was it? Death. Unmistakable. It was sickly sweet, with a day or two old scent of rot. It made her legs shake. “Tamir -” She called out, stopping for only a heart beat or two to make sense of the smell at its basic level before running to cut him off. Pleading for him to stop, to turn around with her posture turned perpendicular to his. “I don't like that smell...” She quivered as it continued to haunt her from somewhere in the recesses of her mind.

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Tamir's pelt ruffled the further they passed through the woods, his steps purposeful and only seeming to falter when Estelle fell behind. If it were any other with her, he was sure their patience would've waned, especially at the sound of her quickened patter time and time again. Another inward sigh and his pace was slowing, taking her into account even despite his mind being elsewhere, inebriated in another way.

But then she was in front of him, speaking with such distraught that everything in him stilled. He hadn't smelled anything, still hadn't now that her concerns brought it to his attention. His head turned down to her when he was sure the woods remained quiet, still save for the birds that erupted from their hollows. “It is nothing.” He murmured to her in what he hoped was a soothing tone, something soft but clipped even still.

“It is just an old smell. Rotting deer, or something.” It wasn't enough for him to go searching. There were creatures that lurked within the forest, ones they'd live with as it was their land before Velaris claimed it. He wouldn't dare attempt to cast them out, nor judge the means of which they left their murky floors. “Come, Estelle. You still must eat.”

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Rotting -

There was more to it, more to the word that completed a sentence but it was the singular word that stuck out to her. Dredging up something deep hidden beneath in a thick fog of memories. Her stomach churned at the thought. As though she had just eaten something foul. Not days old and rich or soft, but putrid and green eaten only out of desperation.

“Not that.” She said softly, pleading for something else. Anything else. “I can find apples if I must... It is autumn now isn't it? Elderberries and cranberries are in season too!” She'd find her own food if she must! And shook her head when she continued. “Anything but that.” This was where she would draw her line and sit in the tall autumn dry grasses, making it very clear she would not go further toward that scent.

“I have listened and followed you the moment I awoke, I only ask this Tamir. Please. I cannot stomach the scent.”

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Tamir bellowed a sigh, thick with the patience he'd been trying quite hard to maintain. He'd know only what she told him, and right now, that was next to nothing. The girl wouldn't survive on apples and berries, she would not survive without the sustenance only meat can provide. Did she not understand that? Rotting or otherwise, the wolves of Velaris may not always be so lucky to find their dinners fresh. She'd need to learn that.

His shoulders lifted with a deep inhale and his body turned away from her, away from the direction she'd been so fearful of going. “I will do you this, Estelle. Once. Berries aren't fit for strength.” He waited a beat before moving again, his back stiffened against the threats she assumed lurked beyond the brushes they hadn't dared pass.

His head turned over his shoulder then, gaze soft and almost pleading. “It is strength you will need here.”

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There it was again. Estelle had ignore their exasperation up until now. Now she was just starting to get annoyed with these men and their attitudes toward her. Regardless of what Tamir thought, he wasn't her guardian. She had made it thus far without one, and would continue to do so. But she said nothing. Only having those russet eyes of hers narrow slightly while gazing back at Tamir.

“I won't be weak, but I will eat what I can stomach.” She'd stand her ground here. “You'll see.” Defiance burned in her eyes, for one so young she felt like she had lived a lifetime already. He had turned from her. Inhaling dramatically from what she could see and her jaw stiffened. She'd say nothing more, and waited to see if he wanted her to follow him further or if she should go off on her own to find food that was something else than flesh fought days ago. “Is that all?” Though her tune was light and friendly, her own patience was beginning to wane.

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For once, Tamir hadn't known what to say to her. What words could he use to convince her of anything if he stumbled on the basics of necessity—food, namely. She was not his responsibility, and maybe that had been his problem. But she forgot that it was he who brought her into the walls of the Vale, he who pledged his responsibility for her well-being, and she whose actions reflected on him. His jaw clenched as he cast a brief glance at her, unamusement ever prominent as she silently displayed her annoyance at him.

“You will learn, Estelle, this place is no place for the picky. Whether it is me who teaches you the lesson or the words of another, you will learn.” There'd been no harshness to his tone, neither malice nor judgment. He was allowing her a moment's advice, but the urge he had to reprimand her burned the tip of his tongue.

His upper lip twitched for a moment before he offered her a stiff nod. “Find a den. Listen for Faust's howl.” He left it at that, his gaze narrowing as he awaited her response. “Or do you wish to find solace from your fears in my presence?”

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Picky.

He kept prodding at her with now rude accusations. “You know nothing of me. He who flew and fell.” She appreciated the invitation, but that didn't mean she would allow them, especially not Tamir, the right to talk down to her like this. Consistently. Mere moments after she had come to this place. When the fog of her memories was still shrouded and all was left were feelings with nothing to explain them.

Picky, the word rang and dug its ugly claws deeper.

Listen for Faust's howl and find a den. Easy enough.

“Or do you wish to find solace from your fears in my presence?” “I do not fear.” Her belly churned uncomfortably. Saliva thick in her mouth as though vomit was threatening to come up. She swallowed once, clearing her mouth. “If that is all, I have food to find. One that I can keep down and actually obtain strength from by digesting it and not vomiting.” She made it clear now. Even if he did force her to eat whatever putrid meat the odor was coming from (the smell is just exaggerating its not actually putrid I believe lolol).

“Thank you for the home, I will be useful and not a burden.” With a half appreciated nod she turned, away from the stench and away from Tamir who seemed set on his own path.

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He was speechless. What had he done that elicited such a reaction from the lamb? His words were true, did she wish him to lie to her? Tell her the world was kind and gracious to the wolves of the Vale? He wanted to throw that remark at her, wound her more with the words of survival, the words that, to anyone else, would inspire hope and drive. But she was different. Perhaps he should have called her weak, dragged her to that rotting corpse, and showed her the true strength she might need to possess.

His jaw clenched at the volatile thought, the idea of dragging her anywhere unsettled him. Made him sick.

His eyes flared with something silent, warming in a bitter way. “You do fear.” He emphasized as she did, teeth clenching behind black lips. “I fear. Do not be silly.” Stupid, he wanted to say. Foolish. But he'd doubted she'd take that kindly.

He was never going to force her to eat anything rotting, not when prey was fruitful during this time of the year. But she knew little of his duties, knew little of the jobs he'd been tasked to do, or the very tasks he'd brought upon himself. He intended on moving it, not eating something far beyond the presence of death. It'd cast them an illness before it provided them sustenance, but he needed to make a point.

At her dismissal, Tamir's mouth parted on a silent response. What good would his coddling do? At present, she was a burden, as much of one as the other outsiders of Velaris. Regardless of what she thought, until she proved herself useful, that's what she'd be. He let out a sigh and turned, the rotting corpse a distant calling of his name. He'd see to its disappearance first.

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