Serpent Lake skin like daffodils

for @Kove but all welcome; sorry in advance for any inconsistencies while i work this child out

  the air tastes crisp, fresh. hauntingly familiar, as though they've been here, though in a way they have. legacies upon legacies; maybe eventually the legacies are worn into vein themselves.

 or maybe they're being dramatic.

  they're not even at the forest of story itself yet, though it must be near-by. or at least, they hope as much -- the cold isn't so terrible, but they'd like to get to aunt meldresi and get settled. they aren't the sort to dally about in natural beauty. it's simply droll. 

 none of this is on topic. sascha sighs to themselves, dragging a paw through the edge of the water. no, they're dallying for sure, an edge of nerves in their stomach they aren't used to. things were so easy, once. they were doted on. but that does not allow for growth, or so they were told. 'find your aunt,' yes, 'make yourself useful to the brotherhood.' all well enough. but in the middle of winter --! they could fuss, if they were inclined to give a shit.

Cousin! Let us go bowling!

For once she exited the forest without the drive to consume the poppy seeds that had taken control of her mind. Such pangs came fewer and fewer, driven away the longer her body went without the precious nectar. She still desired it so, it niggling at the back of her mind, but it was lesser now, and her brain was clearer. Sharper, broken ice.

She did not go towards the territories of Redhawk or Moonspear, instead exiting through the Creek and heading south, away from the tumult. She searches for peace in the white expanse, some kind of place away from the dark oppression of Blackfeather Woods. It had been a long time since she had been this way, the area becoming more familiar with each step she takes.

The Mesa soon fills her western horizon, the lake feeding from its peak still flowing despite the cold. She approaches it, but hesitates upon seeing a dark figure by its shores.

yes!! <3<3 feel free to hope in whenever kuro

perhaps they could compose a poem to give to meldresi, an opening gift, so to speak, so as to prove their worth.. hm. they do not have time to dwell on it before the figure of another materializes. oh, joy. sascha does not enjoy often the company of strangers. they move to step away, pointedly ignoring the white-and-ash woman, when the designs on her coat catch their duo-color eyes. 

the bloodied pawprint. triumph floods them that they were right about the brotherhood's proximity, although it is quickly cooled by arrogance -- of course they were right. their attention on the woman is a laser point of focus, now, moving in sweeping steps closer, pausing with enough berth to mark them as naturally cautious. "you, there," they speak, the gravel of their natural tone make rusty by a few weeks of disuse, "take me to meldresi melonii." they pause, remembering the instructions of their fathers, and add with some obvious reluctance, "please." manners are important, sascha. yeah, yeah -- but they don't know whether this woman is of any import or not, so exercising some formality is probably advisable.

Potema:

Potema watches as the ashen wolf steps aside, taking the opportunity to venture closer to the edges of the lake, her head dipped to drink. Her tongue is caught outside her mouth, her movements stopped by the sudden call to her attention. The white witch's head raises, looking quizzically at the wolf at first. But her expression quickly slips into surprise, disgust, and annoyance all rolled into one. Excuse me?

The addage of a please fails to soothe her. Potema's lips curl slightly into a sneer, contempt for this wolf who seemed to know her mother growing with each second. Meldresi is dead. She says the words matter-of-factly, the sting of them long since gone for her. Who are you to even demand where she is? He did not have the look of a Melonii, as Miraak did. There was no familiar indigo eyes or raven fur.

IM LAUGHIN

at first sascha cannot fathom why their simple request gets them such a reaction. if she's truly of the brotherhood surely she knows meldres---

oh.

well, bugger.

"dead?" they repeat, too taken aback to be off put by her followup. their fathers didn't have any contigency plans. though really, they should have, come to think of it. they shake their head, frowning. "i am sascha melonii, child of evgeni and meldor melonii," sascha tells her absently, and says, "she's really dead? are you sure?"

Potema is still annoyed by the younger wolf's demanding tone, even after learning that he was potentially a relative of hers. She didn't know for sure; Meldresi's family is large, and consisted largely of alliterative names. Meldor clearly sounds like one of Meldresi's relatives (somewhere on her family tree), but Evgeni and Sascha are especially foreign. Married in most like, though a Melonii child would probably have an M-name. But she didn't herself, so she let it slide. Potema is keen enough to notice the word child rather than son, but does not confirm anything within her mind just yet, still considering Sascha to be a boy. Despite coming to terms with her mother's death, Potema still shakes upon recalling the circumstances behind her mother's passing. I was with her when she died, Her mother's final days had been painful, the blood-sickness draining her body bit by bit until she could fight no longer and simply gave up, drifting into the Void. She hoped that she didn't catch that same sickness. I am Meldresi's eldest daughter Potema,

He’s hanging back. Feel free to skip if he goes unnoticed.

When the witch ventured beyond the borders that day, a ghost was there to trail after her. He kept away, leaving enough distance between them that he might go unnoticed without losing sight of her; it was easy to pick her out from the snowy backdrop, his eyes accustomed to finding pale creatures within the snow. Yet, he used the same camouflage to his own advantage, deciding from afar that she must be distracted enough to not seek him out—and why would she, anyways, when he had not actively announced himself to be there? He had become the phantom that he so closely resembled, after all, keeping more or less out of her sight. The only reason for his pursuit was a nagging interest in her that refused to leave him, drawing him forth to both see where she was stealing away to and question her—about several things, things that weighed on his mind late at night.

At some point, he’d lost track of her, needing then to use his nose to relocate her. It wasn’t a difficult thing to do, and he found her with relative ease, but the problems arose when he discovered her to not be alone. Ears swiveled forward atop his crown, listening in on their conversation as he settled back on his haunches a decent distance away, using their rocky surroundings to better shield himself from view. He had entered the conversation late, however, picking up only on Potema’s final words—which held his attention with a mighty grip. He assumed the darker wolf to have known Meldresi, given the context, for why else would she introduce herself as the daughter of the late queen unless the other was familiar with her? Interest piqued, he listened far more attentively after that, eager to learn more.

flipped a coin if they'd notice kove or not!

well, shit. that explains her strong reaction, though really, how are they supposed to know which of their relatives have gone off and died? sascha feels a flicker of annoyance but hides it under flattened ears, making a fleeting show of looking chastised for the sake of smoothing things out. (it doesn't quite work, their eyes betray no actual sheepishness, but to be fair their expression tends to stay flat).

"my cousin, then," they say, then pause, catching movement in the distance. another wolf -- but they can't quite make out much else, and their eyes narrow suspiciously. "what of miraak? is he here?" sascha tries, keeping their gaze on the figure in the distance for a moment longer before looking back to their newly-discovered cousin. they haven't seen their uncle in ages but he was supposed to be here too, sascha thinks. or maybe he's gone and died too. pointing their nose toward the stranger lurking in the back, the fledgling adds, "do you know them?"

Cousin, She repeats the word quietly. It was the first time she ever had seen one of her cousins. She knew that she had many from what the witches of Hag Fen had told her. Meldresi had not spoken much of them; little of her home was ever spoken of.

He is. He's been here for over a year now, Potema turns her head, looking in the same direction as the boy does. There is a wolf there in the distance, and Potema's single eye strains to do the work of two. The wolf approaches, and the red speck on his shoulder becomes more apparent in Potema's vision. That is Kove. He is our Listen- Potema stops herself. Our Listeners are not the same as the ones back home, If she remembered correctly, in other sects the Listeners led the Dark Brotherhood, being direct conduits to the Night Mother — a connection she once thought she had. They are our High Priests,

Sorry for the holdup, @Sascha & @Potema! Feel free to skip him from now on if neither call him over. ♥

He wasn’t granted the chance to keep to himself for very long, the darkest of the duo noticing him. Pointed out, his gaze slid from the nameless wolf and over to Potema, observing her posture whilst his ears strained to hear her words; he focused more so on her body language than her voice, watching for any silent signals that might suggest he was needed. When he saw none, he offered her a slow, stiff nod, but made no effort to creep any closer. He remained where he was, and there he planned to stay unless he was asked to do otherwise.

no worries at all! i also got held up haha. *wheezes* this is dusty, sorry. edit: giving this a fade since potema is inactive

 so miraak is here. that cheers them some -- they're fond of their old uncle, or about as fond as they're capable of being. potema goes on to introduce the stranger lurking behind them and note the difference between the listeners they are familiar with and their role in this strange new place. truthfully, sascha could care less. they are not, how do you say, devout by any stretch of the imagination. 

"i see," they say, raising an eyebrow when this kove acknowledges them but stays at distance. what's his deal. sascha is very interesting and approachable. well, fuck him, he's not really who they're interested in anyway. for a second they thinks of asking to see miraak, but hesitates, not ready to commit to the responsibility of going to blackfeather yet. instead they awkwardly excuse themselves and make their way out into the teekons to do some exploring first (a decision they would come to regret.)