Ravensblood Forest Tonight we are young

Meeting thread for @Lia and @Kitsch I do not believe you've met Dakarai yet!

His wounds were still sore, especially the ones around his neck and shoulders. He had been laying in a patch of sun for a while now, and decided it was time to stretch his aching legs again. Heaving himself to his paws with a grunt of pain he set off at a slow pace, until his body loosened up again. He made his way to a small puddle of water, formed from the melting snow and lowered his muzzle down toward the cool fluid, drinking eagerly.

He could almost be her oldest half-brother. 

Lia had come across him returning from the boundaries of Arturo's lands. He was huge, dark as night, and icy-eyed as her only and favorite half-brother.

The belladonna felt a strange familiarity, a kinship almost, with this member of The Family. Logically, she knew that he was not her brother nor could he be exactly like him either. 

"Hello," Lia chuffed, drifting closer as he lapped at the water. Her head dipped in respect automatically, a gesture ingrained after learning from Neasa.

"I am Lia Raurc," she introduces herself with pride, not to be mistaken for arrogance.

Kitsch hadn’t wanted to see anyone that day, but it seemed the universe deemed that wouldn’t so. Kitsch was out on a walk, but she noticed the two before she came upon them entirely. So she held back and regarded them for afar, peering at them from behind a tree. She knew the one woman to be Lia, the eye witness of her crime, but the man was unknown to her. There was not much to watch in their interaction so the pearl made her presence known and she trudged towards the pair, lilting her head and dipping into a curtsy before them both. Kitsch didn’t truly care about being cordial, but the curtsy had been impressed upon her since she was a puppy and it was a greeting she offered these two pack members now. 

“Hello,” her voice holding the slightest semblance of a purr — as it usually did around men.

Dakarai lifted his head quickly at the presence of another, and dipped his head in return to the woman who announced herself as Lia "Its a pleausure to meet you Lia, I am Dakarai  Svartell." he replied cordially. He hadn't met her before so he assumed she was new, reassured by the fact that she did indeed smell of teaghlaigh. Another's pawsteps were heard and he turned around to see a woman of pale coloring, almost snow white in hue.


The purr in her tone did not please him, in fact it annoyed him greatly and he stood tall "Dakarai. mate to Olive" he introduced bluntly, though not at all in a rude way. It was better to get his relationship status known to both women than to dilly dally and risk things he didn't want to happen.

Dakarai Svartell was not pleased with Kitsch.

Lia had not enjoyed meeting Kitsch either, though she could admit that there was a possibility that the girl would get some sense knocked into her pretty little head. If that were to happen Kitsch could very well become a valuable contribution to The Family and perhaps a trusted friend. It was slim but it was a possibility. 

For now, Lia dipped her head in greeting to the wintry woman and bit back a smile at Dakarai's blunt refusal of Kitsch's flirtations. This one she could get along with. 

"A pleasure to meet you Dakarai Svartell, mate to Olive," she chides teasingly before turning to Kitsch. 

"Kitsch and I are already acquainted." There is a hint of amusement if one looks close enough. It's unlikely the ermine-like woman will live down her feast anytime soon.

Kitsch hadn’t meant anything by the slight purl of her voice – but it seemed that offense was taken. In all honesty, Kitsch was barely cognizant of anything she did. The pearl was a product of how she was raised and didn’t often put much thought into her own actions. Much like Pavlov’s dogs, Kitsch was really only aware of the pleasurable or displeasing reactions and adjusted her behavior to whatever her subconcious thought best.  Kitsch wasn’t critical or intentional; did not harbor forethought or much afterthought; she was a simple, vain creature that sought good feelings and repelled bad ones. She did what felt right in the moment because… well, why wouldn’t she? Kitsch got what she wanted and rarely had to ask twice – and it always seemed that men were more inclined to do her bidding if she asked with a smile. So used to this was she that the soft lilt in her voice barely registered in her own faculties – but her companions definitely did notice. A lot. Kitsch was somewhat surprised by the bluntness of his response, especially because the shortness seemed so very unsolicited. So he had a mate. Cool? Whatever. She didn’t really care.
 
“Yeah, I’m Kitsch –" she moved her lips to lackadaisically to mention her prestigious title and lineage… but quickly pursed her lips instead and cut her sentence off. The sharing of such information never seemed to produce the reaction she wanted… which was so different than her old pack, where the ink dipped girl rarely even needed to introduce herself. Her subjects already knew her, already knew everything about her! It had been so lovely to be the center of everyone's world and social sphere. But this was all so new [how…small and unimportant she seemed] and the unwelcome change continually vexed her. BUT Kitsch was determined not to have to prove herself to any of these… Teaghlaigh folk, so her eyebrows remained knitted together in slight consternation and her aquamarine gaze bounced from Dakarai to Lia, not feeling the need to be the one to carry the conversation.

Annoyed with himself for his shortness he offered a more friendly smile toward the ghostly woman, his eyes softening "It's a pleasure Kitsch. I apologize for my attitude, I have been through a hell of a lot of pain and trouble these past few weeks" he said abashed, not wanting to be seen as a negative presence to anyone in teaghlaigh. Despite the apology Dakarai still felt something was off about Kitsch, and he began to speak casually.

"I Know you all had other reasons for joining, but i wanted to thank you. Me and Olive are having children, as well as Arturo and Lotte. We always need the extra paws and I am grateful no matter how illogical that may seem" he grinned at them, showing that he was very pleased indeed.

Not sure how much they both understood about the family or what was currently going on he decided to catch them up a bit "Teaghlaigh is very loyalty oriented. We expect that once you join you stay, or it is normally seen as a betrayal. There has been drama  recently with me and Olive, and Arturo. I left with Olive for a honeymoon with permission from Ceannasach, and during that trip i got injured badly. I lost my memory of everything After i entered the teekon, including Olive and my unborn children. Olive lead me to a past pack in an attempt to joltmy memory, and it worked though the pack attacked us both."


He wanted it all out there for the two women, not caring if they paid attention or not. He honestly had no idea why he was saying all this, maybe he just wanted someone else to hear his woes. Someone else with no real relation to him. "Unfortunately Arturo was displeased with it, and i believe we are now on watch in case the pack decided to come here"  he finished.

Things are reconciled between the two and secretly, Lia is pleased. Whilst good at bringing it forth with her intense personality, the doyenne is not skilled at dispelling it. 

The gratitude is surprising. She barely manages to keep from glancing at him surreptitiously. Instead Lia nods solemnly, returning the smile.

"I'm aware. Raurcs are well versed in such topics," she comments without interruption. It's said wryly, memories of the many lessons Neasa has taught. 

The tale unfolds in length. Lia finds her mind wandering at points; she is confused by many of the things he says and the way the story unfolds. 

What's a honeymoon? How did he get injured? What pack was it? Why did it return his memory? Olive's pregnant?

It was rather overwhelming for the half-Raurc who never spoke much more than was necessary. 

At the end of it, the belladonna could see both points. Dakarai felt betrayed by Ceannasach's anger and Arturo felt his own children might be in danger of an attack. 

"With luck, they will not pursue you and your woman. And if they do," Lia smirks slightly, reassurance in her pale gaze, "they have the wrath of Teaghlaigh to endure."

It seemed that Kitsch had been right — she wouldn’t have to carry the conversation, because Dakarai was doing it for her. He wove a fantastic tale that reminded her something of the stories her old nan used to, about princes and princesses [much like she] in lands far, far away. There was drama, love, lust, betrayal and vengeance! Kitsch couldn’t help put flick her ink dipped ears forward and cup them towards his voice, hanging on to his every word. But when the fairytale concluded and Lia affirmed Teaghlaigh’s support, her stomach sank. This wasn’t a fairytale but a very distinct reality — her reality. 

“Wait, what?” she questioned bluntly. “We might be attacked?” her angular head swung to Lia, looking for any answers, but the silver shewolf seemed to buttress such [perceived] insubordination. The girl didn’t understand… Wasn’t this place supposed to be her refuge? Why would Dakarai do this to her?

The undersanding wafting from Lia made him curious about her past, but he decided to tuck the questions into the back of his mind for now. The shocked question that came from Kitsch startled him, and for some reason urked him as well. "Operative word might. it has been a few weeks and we've heard nothing. There's always the threat off attack in this world Kitsch, whether you are alone or with others. If Im not being too brash, Do you expect to be safe harbored from life's difficulties here?" he said this in a calm and polite tone though his eyes hardened.


He could already tell that the woman was pampered. His old Alphas had treated their children like treasures, and so they grew up expecting to be coddled and sheltered from everything while the rest of the pack worked their asses off. It was something that annoyed him deeply as a soldier, and protector. Everyone had put their asses on the line to protect the spoiled ones, some even lost their lives but never recieved gratitude as the whelps acted like they deserved it.

Her pale gaze cants to the side to study Kitsch. Perhaps she has overestimated the young woman. After the stunt at the cache Lia was sure Kitsch would begin to show promise. 

The doyenne is seldom wrong.

Yet, confusion colors her as she stares at the wintry woman. Does Kitsch still not understand? The Family is of the utmost importance. Lia does not worry for her own safety. She worries for Arturo and Lotte, Dakarai and Olive, and even Kitsch. 

"You need a skill," Lia blurts suddenly. She is unsurprised at her own candor but perhaps those with her will be offended, particularly the pampered Kitsch. 

The difference between their childhoods is astounding. Lia is without a trade just as Kitsch is but she has something the other lacks: capability. 

The Raurc bastard is capable of hunting, of travel, of fighting, of surviving.

 Kitsch is unable to do anything. Should push come to shove, Kitsch is expendable.

Kitsch, out!

It was becoming clear that these two were not kitsch-fans. Kitsch’s jaw tightened ever so slightly at the realization and steeled herself against their hard stares. It was never fun to be the objection of condescension and it seemed to happen so often lately! It was never Kitsch’s wish — in fact, most often she bore nothing but good intentions [albeit poisoned by an affluent and forgiving upbringing]. The tide of the conversation had shifted quite quickly and it was not all directed towards her. This was so unfair — all she did was care.  

“No…” came her sullen response to Dakarai, small and without fire. Her heart clenched and she jaw clipped shut, feeling as if she might cry. Perhaps in another life she would have went ahead and shed tears [it was a tried and true tactic in getting what she wanted] but not here. not now. not in front of these strangers who judged her so harshly when the lost girl was simply doing the best with the tool she had been giving. Kitsch turned her head to Lia and felt the cool regard that hovered between them. “I’m trying,” the oujo elucidated poorly, realizing that the more she spoke, the most she resembled a petulant child. Feeling betrayed by her body and mannerism, Kitsch desired nothing more than to dismiss herself from this scene — she didn’t have to subject herself to the judgement of peasants, after all. “I must go,” came her third broken sentence and she waited for the two elders to acknowledge her dismissal before heading back from whence she came.

Oh hell. Crap. He hand't meant to hurt the poor girl. Perhaps he had been a bit too harsh with his words stepping forward to go after her, he hesitated and stopped lowering his head and shaking it slightly. "I didn't mean to insult her. Perhaps I was too harsh" he announced to nobody in general. Looking toward Lia he offered a weary smile "It was nice to meet you Miss Raurc.  we will see one another again sometime" he said in farewell. Now he would go add his scent to the borders again, and search for some pretty things for Olive which he hadn't done in a while.

Dakky Out!

Lia's face softens as the young woman leaves, obviously stung by their words. 

The doyenne did not mean to hurt her but she will not lie to Kitsch. She is expendable and the Raurc would rather not see the wintry sprite hurt by something far worse than the words of her pack mates. Kitsch will have to grow up quickly; she will have to make herself valuable or she will not survive this place. 

"Soon," she answers, dipping her head to him once more before returning to the bloodied forest.