Redemption lies plainly in truth

He rose that morning with more of a pep to his step, eager to take on the day and all that it had to offer. Dreams of his past and of his family had not plagued him that night, wrenching turmoil through his mind, soiling his mood for the day to come. Though Gjalla had already risen from her slumber when he had awoken, and disappeared off to somewhere; Vahaelarr had caught the lingering scent of Tamir at the entrance of their chosen den, something that had brought a slight narrow of the eyes to Vahaelarr. 

The morning sun had quickly risen to its apex as the day had progressed. Vahaelarr had busied himself with patrolling the mountains that protected Sundered Roost from intruders, vigilant as ever; and had descended just in time for lunch. He’d spotted a few familiar faces already feasting on what they had managed to drag in or had grabbed from the communal pile and offered nothing more than a dip of his head in greeting, beginning his own ample walk towards the treeline that opened up into Velaris’ chosen hunting grounds. 

It was where he’d come across the Kallista, Tove. Vahaelarr’s trot slowed into a brisk walk as he approached the wolfess, a warm smile gracing his handsome complexion. “Kallista.” Her title was friendly upon his accented tongue, and the wolf brought his head to a brief bow, a respectful curtsy before the lead shaman. 

"Emagon ao iprattan?" — Have you ate?
 

@Tove

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For the first time in a while, Tove basked in the rising sun, watching as the colors shifted and became brighter, more aglow. While the others patrolled or hunted as the birds began to chirp, she rested. A rarity. The warmth from the sun massaged at her aching joints and bones, tired from her nightly explorations and preparations.

That was where Vahaelarr would find her, comfortable and not expecting a disruption. Relaxed, lounged on her side with her head pointed towards the sky, sunlight dancing on her speckled face. The black and auburn toned woman smelled him before she saw him, his spiced winter scents washing over her in a way that made the furs bristle on her neck, ears flicking. What now? She stayed put, forelimbs crossed as she waited for him to approach, an irritating curiosity prickling at her skin.

’Kallista,’ he greeted her formally and she resisted the urge to frown, her expression unchanging as he neared her. She may have been the pack shaman, but she was more than that. She was not just her title. ‘Tove,” she was quick to say, shaking her head in his general direction as she pulled her gaze away from the blue skies. Her words came out short, biting. “Issa sepār Tove.” — It is just Tove.

She huffed at him, ears flicking in disapproval as she raised herself up and shook her furs off as best she could. Grass and a mixture of foliage tumbled off but much stayed put, still entangled in her furs. A usual for her, given how she spent most of her time. Hazel eyes were quick to find his face, searching and piercing. He was polite, too polite and it irked her to no end. She couldn't help but wonder what else lay below his exterior? She hoped for something better. Something more thrilling. “Konīr kessa sagon mirre hen bona either, Vahaelarr.” — There will be none of that either, Vahaelarr. she barked, motioning towards him with a flick of her paw. He did not need to bow for her. “Kostā emagon yet naejot prove aōha worth yn iksan daor aōha dārys iā dāria.” — You may have yet to prove your worth but I am not your king or queen.

His next question caught her by surprise and she paused, brows furrowed. Had she eaten? She must have forgotten, she realized as her stomach grumbled then - answering for her. It was a loud rumble, a cry for attention. Her mouth watered at the thought, heart loud in her chest. Tove couldn't help the sheepish chuckle that slipped out, face flush with a sudden heat. He must have thought her silly, childish even. The pack Kallista, forgetting to eat? She shook her head towards him, settling for a silent reply as embarrassment seeped from her very core.

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Her name was snapped back at him, a sharp recoil that nearly brought the wolf to a flinch, softened eyes widening just briefly enough for her to notice. She'd caught him by surprise, he hadn't been expecting the sharp reply from the Kallista. Cold, biting. Her words dug deep beneath the thick layers of his heavy coat, threatening to slice through skin. Still, the others were wary of him--no, not wary. They disliked him. He was rogue, outsider. Not welcome, even if Faust had allowed his presence. To them, at least now, he would never be Velarion. 

His head raised, reeling backwards as a frown threatened to tug at the corners of his maw. His nose quivered, he breathed in her scent that lingered like the summer breeze around the soft grassy bed she'd made for herself in the valley. But then she rose, a flower from the soil, giving her coat of earthy colors a brisk shake; Vahaelarr raised a foreleg to deflect the fragments of foliage that fell from her fur, a soft chuckle pulling from his chest and throat. “My apologies, Tove.” Though his spirits had been soiled by her dislike for him she made no efforts to hide, Vahaelarr still found a way to be kind, to be endearing, to be welcoming. His body language spoke of something warm and soft, an inviting demeanor. 

His manners had been groomed into him from pup hood. He could not shake them now. 

Vahaelarr felt her searching his face, looking for answers that lay just beneath the surface of his airy facade. He did not give away the lingering discomfort it brought him; the feeling of being watched, of being judged. Vahae simply settled his lilac gaze upon Tove in return, softly searching the workings of her feminine face. She is pretty. A quiet thought, one that meant nothing as he brushed it away, blinking. As she spoke, Vahae listened attentively, and when she flicked her paw at him dismissively, the wolf gave a gentle, quiet dip of his head in understanding. He supposed he understood where she was coming from, despite how difficult it would be for the former Prince to just toss out his formalities. ”Nyke shifang.” — I understand. He inhaled a swift breath and exhaled it as soon as it had come, posture straightening as he sidled away, offering Tove even more personal space than she'd established for herself. He did not want to be overbearing. ”Ziry iksos simply skorkydoso nyke istan raised.” — It is simply how I was raised. The Knight explained. 

His ears twitched, perking at the sound of her grumbling stomach. It brought a humored smile to his face, one that grew into a boyish grin despite his attempts as forcing it to not. The ever vigilant Kallista forgetting to eat? Perhaps she was wolf afterall. Vahaelarr gave his maw a swipe of his tongue before fixing a pointed look upon the forested region of the Vale and what lay onwards from it, tail resting quietly amongst his back legs. 

”Care syt nykeā arghugon, pār?” — Care for a hunt, then? 

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Unlike the man before her, Tove was cold, an icy figurine that needed to be thawed out, worked a little. Beneath it all, she could be warm. She could be kind, perhaps, even inviting like him - but so far, her icy exterior was intact, forming a frozen wall between them had barely began to melt. His apology had her nodding, a quick and dismissive gesture as she shook herself off and his chuckle had her ears twitching curiously. He was sorry, he said. She couldn't help but wonder if he would correct himself the next time they met or would she have to remind him again? Royalty and their titles. They were always so worried about the wrong things and could never see past the crowns that sat upon their mad heads.

Hazel eyes stayed glued to Vahaelarr as he shifted a wolf-length or two away and she couldn't but wonder why - was he nervous to be around her? Had it been the plants that had fallen his way? Perhaps she smelled too medicinal? Or was he just being polite? Small thoughts, a pool of foolish insecurities whirled in her mind but she pushed them down, ignored for now. They were to be saved for later, added to chest that only opened when slumber escaped her.

“Kostā emagon naejot continue doing sīr syt Faust,” — “You may have to continue doing so for Faust,” she admitted after a few moments' pause, gaze flickering behind them, far away to where many of the others lingered. It was a warning, however simple it was said. She knew of the Sévir’s strong disdain for this Prince and his Princess. Of how much it troubled him, of the doubts that plagued his mind for allowing those born upon thrones into their sacred home. It was obvious to Tove how much harder they would have to work to prove their worth to him. She just hoped they were prepared: Ready for anything. Ready to be Valerian.

The grin that swept across Vahaelarr’s face had Tove staring and the warmth that had blossomed upon her cheeks only spread further. It was a grin that met his eyes, a charming one full of a humor she could see swirling in his lilac gaze. Did he think her silly? If her stomach hadn’t given away her secret, she may have fibbed to him. But, alas, she had been thwarted and while it was embarrassing, she was thankful he didn’t tease. She avoided his gaze now, a front paw digging at the soft soils beneath her.

“Sȳz idea,” — “Good idea,” Tove replied as carefully as possible, an attempt to keep the abashment she felt hidden deep below. Her words were quiet as she turned from him, looking towards the green forests that stood before them. Her stomach complained again, loud and demanding. The sound made her eyes narrow, nostrils flaring in annoyance and head shake, the furs on her chest ruffling. That was more than enough. “Ao jemagon se ñuhoso se kesan follow.” — “You lead the way and I will follow” With that said, the earthy woman would wait for him to tread forth and would follow close behind, allowing him the chance to prove himself. Show his worth, his smarts. Prove to her that he was worth her time.

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There was simply no hiding the embarrassment that had risen to the surface of Tove's face, spreading across her rounded cheeks like a wildfire, unrelenting and raging with the ferocity of ten summers. The former Prince found it endearing, and couldn't help the genuine smile it brought to his maw, or the pitter patter of his heart it brought racing. To see Tove, who was so distant and cold towards him, suddenly so bashful -- he could not help himself but to enjoy it. But he did not relish in it as if a bully enjoying the suffering of a victim, no, it was different. It brought a tilt of his head to come, tilting left ever so slightly. It was something that proved to him that he could quite possibly bring Tove's high strung walls crashing down, to reveal the kindness he knew was within. 

"Vestragon bona arlī, yn bisa jēda rūsīr nykeā līrinon." — Say that again, but this time with a smile. He poked, his first attempt at a joke. He was quick to grow comfortable in her presence, to relax and rid himself of some of that poise that constantly stuck to his shoulders like a burr embedded within his fur. As they trotted forth towards Velaris' hunting grounds, he watched her, the smile upon his face now constant. Did she think him stupid? It was a possibility Vahae found troubling, one that caused him to return his eyes to the opening in the valley ahead of them, leading their little expedition with a confident step. 

Finding prey came at no difficulty for the wolf. Back home, the lack of prey trotting the rigid winter mountains had taught him patience and a few tricks that would make finding something to eat within Velaris' realm as easy as counting his paws. For such a large wolf, Vahaelarr slunk easily through the jaded trees, shoulders rolling quietly with the poise of a predator; his lilac eyes burned as they swiveled around the brush and foliage, stopping atop one of many shaded hills to peer down into the rolling valleys. Fields of grass for miles and miles, perfect grazing grounds for deer and elk alike. Between the two of them, they'd find no trouble hauling in a decent bounty. He fixed a pointed look upon Tove and cut his eyes towards a small herd of deer just beneath the hill they had crested, jaw opening to whisper. 

“One of us will chase them into the mouth of the other. Who shall it be?” He asked, brow lifting upwards. 

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His attempt at lightening the mood with a joke had Tove huffing in his direction, viridescent eyes dancing and the embarrassment quickly forgotten. For now. She held her tongue, letting the sassy retort she’d wished to throw at him dig a hole into her mind, choosing silence for now and the safety behind the wall she had so carefully forged around herself. As they walked alongside one another, she did her best to stay focused ahead but the occasional glance his way was inescapable and she found herself looking longer than wanted. He was handsome, this prince. His dark features were familiar, akin to many of the men from back home and he carried himself with a prowess that did not go unnoticed by her. It pulled at something within her, something she didn’t like.

The smile that had found home upon his face as they strolled had Tove rolling her eyes and she fought the urge to question him, not wanting to embarrass herself once more. What had him smiling? Was it something she’d said - or worse, did? As much as it irritated her, she found herself curious, intrigued. It was a smile that was charming, striking even, and it seemed to illuminate his entire being; a whole new side she hadn’t seen from him. But, as quick as it came, it was gone and he was focused on the path ahead. Just as she should be, she reminded herself, keeping her eyes off of him then, the silence between them loud and echoing.

While not a hunter by trade, Tove followed Vahaelarr easily and without much hesitation. She mirrored him, letting her steps quiet and form become more predatory, lips glistening with anticipation. She was hungry and had it been her alone, she may have been more impatient, more reckless in her hunt but with him by her side, she held herself back, true to her word. He was in charge, leading the way, leading her. As they neared their prize, an unsuspecting herd of two-toed, her nostrils flared and her skin rippled as their scent, both delicious and intoxicating, wafted their way. It made her insides roar, begging to be satiated.

When he spoke, giving her a choice, she couldn't help the grin that now pulled her lips upward, tail swaying behind her. Her toes curled and her gaze slid towards the herd. “Kesan jikagon” — “I’ll go, she nodded towards him with her own whisper, impatience oozing from her, word forgotten. “Ȳdra daor miss.” — “Don’t miss. With that, Tove was off, slithering on feather light paws towards the two-toed. Her steps were calculated, slow and steady so as to not spook any of them before she was ready, circling them at distance, her body low and eyes narrowed, glued to their movements. There were many to choose from, to pluck ripe for their choosing and she settled on one a little off from the others, grazing without a worry in sight. It was well-sized, body plum from the abundance of food that covered the Valley. She watched for a few moments as it feasted upon the green grasses, letting it enjoy a few more moments peace before she sprang.

At first, the poor creature flinched, caught off guard as its oasis was assaulted, completely altered and interrupted by the thud of her paws and she’d let her jaws snap in its direction once, then twice in warning and off it went. It wasted no time in its attempt to escape her and she let it fall ahead a bit before she’d close the distance, and repeat, herding it towards the beast that awaited them. Her blood pumped throughout her form, heart thudding loud in her chest as she ran, face alight with joy. It had been too long since she’d gone on a real hunt and with the hunger that drove her, she was full of untamed adrenaline. It made her ravenous.

She only hoped that Vahaelarr would not disappoint.

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For the first time since their interaction, Tove had smiled, and an unfamiliar warmth spread through the Knight's body. He knew that it had not been at him, rather the prospect of the chase, but a win was a win. Eagerly, he watched as the young muscle rolled beneath her fur--a trait he'd somehow missed within the she-wolf, and she was gone, leaving him with a final task:

Don't miss. 

Vahaelarr did not intend to. 

As she began her descent into the foliage below, the wolf poised himself atop the hill, a stoic sentinel amongst silent trees. Tove had disappeared from sight rather quickly and the wolf found himself craning his head to catch view of her earthen pelt once more, eyes squinting through the thick trees and foliage. Finally, he spotted her, and the fur along his back that'd begun to bristle had calmed. The moment she had leapt forwards, throwing the separated two-toed into a chase, Vahaelarr had moved from his position, slipping down into the brush and thickets below. 

Crouched close to the grassy floor, his eyes peeled over the scene intensely. Tove was a natural, it appeared; even though she had chosen the trade of medicine, there was no denying her skill in the hunt. Like a she-wolf who devoted her life to providing her Pack with food, she nipped and bit at the back rearing legs of the piece of prey, driving it towards Vahaelarr who was low in waiting. His tongue swiped across his maw, wetting his nose, drawing close along his lips--and when she drew near, so near that he could almost hear the throbbing thump of the two-toed's heart--

From the bushes the wolf appeared, jaws immediately opening to clench down around the throat of the deer. But they snapped closed, a threatening and taunting bite as the two-toed attempted to quickly skirt away, only to panic and scatter in whatever direction it could whenever the realization that it was surrounded closed in. Vahaelarr turned from the noble Knight to a hungry predator, jumping out and snapping his jaws down around one of it's kicking legs. It's body crashed against the floor and it thrashed against Vahaelarr's grip, a terrified belt ripping free of it's throat. 

One hefty paw pressed against the Pronghorn's shoulder to pin it to the ground, silencing it's cries with a suffocating bite to it's throat, one that strengthened in grip until the ungulate stopped struggling beneath his weight. 

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Tove was bursting with excitement, her heart thrumming loud and unsteady in her chest, focused entirely on the chase. She was hungry, starved, and this was up there in the most thrilling of things she'd done in days. She felt alive. No time was wasted to check for her packmate and make sure he was waiting and ready - one wrong move and she could lose this chase. Two-toed weren't necessarily smart but when afraid, they were reckless and unpredictable. One wrong move by her or a miscalculated snap of jaws and those loud thumping hooves could result in a kick to the jaw that she may not recover from.

She’d seen far worse during hunts before.

Propitiously for her, Vahaelarr did disappoint and before she even realized it - he was in view, taking what belonged to them without an ounce of hesitation. He leapt forward, like a mighty beast, his own jaws snapping in warning and she was drawn in by the way his ivory teeth glistened, her chest heaving with a heavy breath, heart loud in her chest. His threatening snap and presence only frightened the Pronghorn more and it made to run from him, only to be met by Tove, a snarl echoing loud as she braced herself. She was hungry, oh so hungry, and their meal was not getting away.

But, before she had the chance to worry, a panicked squeal made her ears flatten and lips pull back in a growl as the pronghorn was thrust down, its body crashing into the grass beneath them. She stopped then, watching and waiting but ready to step in if Vahaelarr needed a helping hand. And he did not.

Her breaths stayed ragged and loud, her body still quivering from the chase and her viridescent gaze was full of admiration as Vahaelarr brought down their prize alone, without struggle or concern. The Pronghorn's suffering was ended quickly with a swift but fatal bite to its throat, its bleating calls for help quieting down until there was nothing but the nearing calls of birds above and the ragged breaths that came from the two wolves.

She stared, her lips tugging into a pleased smile. Her gaze traveled across the slate painted brute then, the admiration clear as day on her face and she took in him wholly, as if she was seeing him for the first time. Perhaps she was, at that moment, the thrill of the hunt still alive in the both of them. He was not weak, now was he? He was a powerful man, rippling with toned muscle and prowess she had ignored before. The earthy woman found herself surprised by him but it was a feeling that was triumphed and squashed by her hunger. Huffing then, she pulled her gaze from him and stepped forward, breathing in the scent of their prize.

Her stomach howled and Tove uttered a quiet thank you to the Star Mother, a custom she would not soon forget. “Ao gōntan sȳrī,” — You did well. she offered to Vahaelarr plainly, keeping any praise she thought to herself, locked away and hidden for safekeeping. Her ears twitched, tail swaying slowly behind her legs as she leaned in and wasted no time in taking a hefty and rather unladylike bite out of the Pronghorn's rump, almost groaning as the flesh hit her mouth. Patience be damned, she was hungry.

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He had been too absorbed in the glory of his kill to notice the way her stare lingered upon him. The way her eyes clung to him, sizing him up, admiring the muscle that rolled and coiled beneath his coat of slate. He was all sinew and power, constricting with a humble rhythm, one quiet and tempered. The taste of blood upon his tongue, drenching his mouth in the sweet ichor of his kill, was cherished and the wolf could hardly bring himself to pull his head away from it's crushed throat. As he looked up and cast his lilac eyes upon the brown she-wolf, he met her fiery gaze. 

Something erupted within his stomach. It was something of butterflies and of bubbles, a tickle that was familiar and yet foreign. He did not ignore it, did not push it away -- he welcomed it, he desired it. He found it as a result of the way she looked upon him in that moment, and his tongue swiped across his maw, licking the blood from his gray snout. And then her eyes were gone and pushed to the sight of the kill and Vahaelarr was left alone, utterly. 

But the smile that followed was not hidden. He heeded her compliment with open ears and cleared his throat, paws shuffling briefly as he leaned down. "Ao gōntan sȳrī aōla." — You did well yourself. He spoke warmly. His nose brushed faintly over the wiry fur of the two-toed and Vahaelarr's lips feigned, teeth which glistened with the remnants of blood tearing into the muscled shoulder of the meal. He feasted in silence, not daring to speak again until Tove had had her fill. He heaved a gluttonous sigh as he pulled away from the picked over corpse of their kill, moving a few feet away to collapse into the heated grass of the valley. He rolled onto his side, and then onto his back, bloated belly facing the sky and muscular legs dangling above his frame. 

His head lolled to the side as he looked upon the Kallista. "Jāhor ao join issa?" — Will you join me?

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Food.

It was all she thought about then, entirely focused on the kill before her, the thought of Vahaelarr pushed far away for now. His compliment had made her flush and she'd shrugged, nervous and dismissive and she blamed it on the Pronghorn. An easy excuse. A reason to move on, to distract herself. Tove's eyes all but rolled into the back of head as she feasted, her hunger quieting and tempering down with each swallow. A fresh kill was always delectable and preferred and on empty stomach? Heaven. Away with manners, she took her share without pause, tearing and pulling away chunks of flesh eagerly. Blood soaked her muzzle, staining her dark fur but she took little notice, not even attempting to wipe away any remnants.

After the first few bites she gobbled up quickly, the young woman slowed down, savoring the flavors that danced on her tongue. It had been awhile since she'd had Pronghorn, she mused, adding it to top of her list of favorites. Underneath rabbit, she decided. A close second.

She remembered him then, once she found herself unable to eat anymore, for fear of bursting and she found her gaze being pulled back to Vahaelarr, her stare piercing and indecipherable. She gazed at him over the body of their shared meal, watching as he finished, wondering if he too had found the hunt exciting, found it exhilarating. Or was this just another day for him? A day he'd quickly forget? The thought made her stomach quiver and drop, a heaviness that was not due to the recent feast filling her core.

She would not soon forget.

Her eyes narrowed in curiosity, the feeling prickling and taunting her as she watched him move away and laze upon the grass, rolling over with an ease she envied. At first, Tove hesitated and huffed in response, ready to hunker down beside their meal. But then - she found herself getting up, pulled by a thread she hadn't known was there. Her steps were slow and hesitant as she made her way to his side, head low and muzzle stained with blood.

She lay beside him after a moments pause, careful and deliberate to leave enough space between them and sighed - loud and dramatic. Ohh, how dreadful and dreary this was, she feigned, glad he couldn't see her insides. Couldn’t read her mind or see the way she bubbled and buzzed with a nervous excitement, a feeling that almost left her breathless. She let out a breathy huff in his direction, eyes rolling in her head as she mirrored him and brought her own paws beneath her chin. Her head beat loud in her chest, a rapid drum that she begged to quiet down.

As she rolled over with the sunlight pointed down upon her stomach, it made her realize just how full she was and she laughed out loud, a whimsical and breathy sound. It slipped past her frosty facade and she refused to look at Vahaelarr then, nose wrinkling as she fought back another laugh. She was sure if they had to run, she could not. She would be left behind in the dust, drunk on food and satisfied. What a thought!

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In that moment, Vahaelarr found himself looking upon the sky. His lilac eyes, stricken with warmth by the glow of the sun, watched the round clouds that floated calmly through the blue expanse. His ears were sensitive to the soft calls of birds as they swooped and glided through the sky above; it appeared that up there was a whole other world than the one down below. He wandered what it might be like to soar, to fly above the clouds. What did they hide? What roamed up there past the stars? 

As he watched, the man he was unfolded and peeled back, revealing the naive boy he'd once been beneath. When he had been but a pup, adventuring through the frosty lands of Winterhelm with his siblings -- all of his siblings. Ludon, Venaday... and Adorre. A pang of sorrow glossed his heart, it struck home within his gaze, and if Tove looked, she might've seen it. Might've noticed it. Before he knew it, tears had begun to sting the edges of his eyes and the wolf pulled away, averting his face quickly. Tove was too busy laughing, giggling, and Vahaelarr quickly composed himself. 

She need not see this. She would think me weak. 

When he looked upon Tove again, he was drawn in by her beauty. She admired the crinkle of her gentle eyes as she belly laughed, and he rolled over onto his shoulder so that he might get a better look at her, a smile -- toothy and wide -- pulling upon his handsome complexion. Before he could stop himself, Vahaelarr was speaking, gazing upon the Kallista and apparent huntress fondly. "Ao sōpagon." — You laugh. His voice was that of honey. "Issa iā gevie mēre." — It is a beautiful one. If he had no fur to hide it, the pink that tinged his cheeks would've been noticeable. Thankfully, it was not and the wolf cleared his throat, pulling himself to his haunches all of a sudden. Gjalla came to mind, and a sudden guilt wracked Vahaelarr; guilt that he gazed upon another wolfess as he did, despite the knowledge Gjalla only viewed him as a friend. 

"Nyke et se tolie issi pendare skoriot emā gan." — I bet the others are wondering where you have gone.

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Laughter spilled from her, untamed and wild, her body bursting with a sense of happiness she hadn't felt in a long time. Not since she'd been back, not since her fall from the cliff. She was ignorant to the emotions that suddenly spilled from the man beside her, blissfully unaware that he was remembering his youth in a way that made his heart ache.

A forelimb reached out to press against her belly, her nose wrinkling and lips parting in a grimace between her giggles, the visible jut of her stomach showing just how full she was. She couldn't recall the last time she'd gorged herself so fully, been so reckless, so uninhibited. It reminded her of her youth, back when she, Savan and the boys had been more wild, more fun. It was a time she missed. Perhaps it had been the hunt? The freedom to just be? Nonetheless, it was a feeling she savored and would remember. His words, sudden but so sweet and smooth, pulled her back down from the clouds, that laughter that had been erupting died down, only to be replaced by a deafening silence.

Beautiful?

Her laugh, beautiful? Surely it had been too loud, too disruptive. Tove couldn't help the way her lips pulled down into a frown, her hazel gaze flickering towards the slaten man. He watched her, grinning and unashamed. He stared at her as if he truly meant it, like her laugh had truly been something. Maybe...No. Her own cheeks warmed, an uncomfortable heat spreading throughout her slender form as she found herself growing embarrassed. It made her skin crawl, her toes curl. Did he tease? Did he mean to make fun of her? Her mind flashed back to her puphood, to the way many of the boys would joke with her, tease the girl who preferred plants over spars. The weakling. The girl protected by Faust, Tamir and Raenar.

“Ao tease," — You tease she whispered to him, shaking her head with a snort. She couldn't believe she'd let herself slip, let the gate of her icy walls open enough to let anything escape. What would Faust think? Would he find her a fool? Or worse, be disappointed? Before she could say anything else, the man before her was sitting up with an urgency that did not go unmissed by her. Tove saw the change in his expression, the way his lines sharpened and tightened, his body language no longer one of ease. It was like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but with her. Outsider or not, it made her want to crawl out of her own skin, only to slither away and hide away from all to see. Perhaps he felt foolish for even saying such a thing to her, jokes or not.

“Iksā probably paktot." — You are probably right The words were rushed and dismissive as Tove rolled over onto her stomach, ignoring how heavy she felt. She stared at the ground, focusing hard on the blades of grass that tickled her paws, wishing she were a small critter or insect amongst them. Life was probably easier, wasn't it? Being so small, so unnoticeable. Tove gave no sign of getting up but still she nodded, huffing quietly. The delay would be easy to blame on the full stomach and not on the fact that she couldn't get her legs to move. “Nyke should jiōragon arlī." — I should get back

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Lilac eyes softened as he turned his head to look upon her, to watch her closely. He saw the way she stiffened, the way her toes shifted uncomfortably. She shied away from him almost, crawling into herself, and then she spoke. You tease. His ears twitched, threatening to flatten in offense against his head, but they did not, remaining anchored where they stood. He swallowed as he rose from his haunches and lifted himself to his large paws, blinking bashfully as he looked upon her. 

"Daor, nyke gaomagon daor." — No, I do not. His voice was warm despite it being flat, straight to the point. Serious. He had never been more serious in his life, yet he figured that was a mere exaggeration. Of course... there had been times he was more serious. 

I should get back. Yet she did not move, and neither did Vahaelarr. He wanted to turn, to reach out and touch the Kallista. Offer her his support, no matter how miniscule he might be. Why had what he'd said offended her? Had he made her uncomfortable? He swallowed and his jaws parted, but nothing but breath released despite what was meant to be words. His mouth simply dried. 

But then he found the nerve to speak, and slowly Vahaelarr approached her, but he didn't reach out to touch her. "Emagon nyke angoda ao?" — Have I offended you?

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Tove felt the pressure building in her chest, a pressure that was smothering and demanding and could be felt all the way to the bottom of her stomach. It made her vision hazy and her limbs quiver but with a deep and even breath, she fought to center herself, to bring herself to look at him. To stare into his lilac gaze to show that she was unbothered. Strong. But she could not bring herself to do it and instead, she continued to look elsewhere, busying her gaze with everything else. Anything else.

‘I do not,’ he claimed, his voice ringing with an unmistakable sincerity that clawed at her insides and made her ears ring but yet, she still doubted him. Why would he think that? She was supposed to be the Kallista, supposed to be better. More. Not relaxing and laughing with an Outsider, daydreaming the day away. So why was there a part of her that wished to do it longer? To go back to before things had been made to feel so tense.

To do it again. And again.

Tall ears twitched and her hazel gaze narrowed as the sound of footsteps grew close and the cold, masculine scent of Vahaelarr engulfed her. She huffed, once, a quiet noise between her teeth and the world seemed to quiet down between them. The unsteady thrum of heartbeat in chest seemed so loud, so obvious and she wondered if he could hear it, hear the way it skipped a beat when he joined her side. “Daor," — No she breathed, forcing herself to finally look up towards him and meet his lilac gaze, brows furrowed upon her speckled face. “Shijetra nyke Vahaelarr, īlen issare foolish.” " — Forgive me Vahaelarr, I was being foolish.

And yet, she still did not move.

Would not. Could not.

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