The Tangle the earth is littered with the ruins

technically the tangle touches rusalka's borders ...if you squint real close at the map so i'm going with it, lmao. for @Serem!

the first act of rebellion was like a mouth-watering delight that was a taste. a tease. like a stolen, decadent pastry that was as buttery and delicious as it looked. immediately, scarab knew he wanted more whether there were future reprimands awaiting him or not. the cold, hard truth that went down like a burst of sour powder was that he would not stop. not until he's pushed his limits too far, until the rebellion was quashed beneath the oppressing foot of those with much, much more power than him.

as the day wanes on, the morning sky blossoming to candyfloss blue of afternoon, gilded in gold of the sun that burns like a cursed doubloon in the sky, scarab teeters on the edge of blackguard and golden son. for a while he stays within the veil of safety that the scent markers of rusalka's borders offer just in case there is an adult trailing from behind but eventually temptation proves to be too much and he steals across the borders once more.

though he once thought of them as a fortress wall: immovable and impenetrable, it was horrendously easy to cross over them freely, as if the fortress and it's silent and stalwart sentries parted just for him. the territory he ventures into ( the tangle ) is immediately unpleasant despite that he is careful not to stray out of sight of the borders. the trees of the territory look as if they are cursed: limbs spindly, twisted and warped. sickly, almost. still, he is curious despite the spiny shrubs that look as wholly uninviting as the witchtrees.

Her wounds were light but they stung none the less. Thankfully they were near water and she was able to find chervil root to treat any possible infection that might ensue. As she was walking however she noticed a young pup nearby and slowly approached. “Aren’t you a little far from the safety of home.” She asked assuming he was a part of the pack she sensed nearby. “ A lot of dangers lurk nearby young one.”

scarab stays clear of the thick of spiny shrubs that grow around and between the trunks of the witchtrees like sinister sentries, not wanting the needle sharp points to neither tangle in his pelage nor splice his flesh. a shadow within the thicket of the tangle moves then with slow footfalls taking a distinctly canine shape accompanying with a question that strikes scarab as a bit condescending. he wasn't far from home at all. the borders were but a few feet away — still in his sights — which makes scarab wonder if their protective veil shrouded over him even out here beyond their immediate reach.

no. while his reply might've sounded imperious it was also curtly honest. youth granted him the illusion of immortality and at her words he lets out a low snort. dangers lurk everywhere. he tells her flippantly; proposing a wisdom beyond his age though truth was he said it because it sounded like a grown-up thing to say.

The ebony she wolf watched the young pup. “That is true little one.” Then another question popped into her mind. If he was out here where was his parents. Surely they would know of his absence. “Why are you not with your parents? Dangerous herbs grow here. Are you not the least concerned with safety?” If he was certainly aware that danger of everywhere why was he not within pack borders. “Where do you hail from?”

She looked around, perhaps his parents were nearby and he simply strayed from them but as she sniffed the air she caught no scent of another wolf other than the two of them. “My name is Serem and don’t worry I won’t harm you.” Besides if he did belong to a pack she wouldn’t want to anger them.

scarab, though understanding that he was a lot younger than her and smaller despite entering the stage of his life where his growth was rapid, did not exactly appreciate being called 'little one'. it sounded too sugary and to the golden dahomey more than condescending even if it wasn't meant to be so. calling him 'little one', 'young one' or any other variation did not mean she was in charge — unfortunately for her that was exactly how scarab took it to be given his own discovery of dominance: a powerplay.

scarab's ears cup forward atop the proud crown of his skull at her question: where were his parents, was he not concerned about his safety, and something about herbs. this perplexes him more than anything else: what threat could plants possibly hold? before he can capitalize on that she asks another question: where was he from. did he not smell like rusalka who's borders there were a mere stone throw away from? instead of answering any of her questions scarab offers her a toothy grin that could've been charming if it hadn't been too candy sweet.

scarab. he replies with his own name after she gives her's. i wasn't worried. he tells her cheerfully at her assurance that she wasn't going to harm him. his confidence is little more than youthful purity coupling with arrogance and an ego much too big for scarab's still growing body to contain. for better or for worse, being as sheltered as he was and belonging to a pack like rusalka where members leave and join as thoroughly as leadership changes leaves scarab with no experience of caution around strangers.

The young pup gave his name and she took note of that. “That’s a nice name.” Serem took note of it just in case his guardians came to obtain him. “Why are you here of all places?” This wasn’t the best place for a child.

scarab gives her a small, curious tilt of his head as she mentions that his name is 'nice'. he doesn't think he's ever heard that before. could a name be nice? regardless, he assumes it's meant as a compliment and takes it as such. whether 'scarab' was a nice name or not ...it was his name; tied to him so irrevocably that when someone spoke it he would come to their mind. because i can be. he replies; and though the words in and of themselves should sound haughty, they are spoken with the simplicity that insinuates that he doesn't mean to sound arrogant. he doesn't have any other reason because he feels he doesn't need any other reason to be here — even if scarab wasn't entirely sure where 'here' was. he feels confident with the borders of rusalka directly at his back, though, and doesn't feel the fear nor caution that he should feel.

This didn’t go at all how I planned but that’s okay. Probably gonna end it here. Thanks for the thread.

She had lingered around the young one far too long than she had originally planned and far too long for her liking. “Well safe travels Scarab. I must return home now as should you but you will do what you want.” Their was no getting to young when you weren’t the parental figure and that was fine. If that was all she would make her way back to the forest.

their conversation appears to be fated to be short though scarab cannot say that he truly minds. he, despite not knowing anything about her other than her name, deems her to be a strange adult — though it escapes his grasp that perhaps the dramatic age difference between them might come off as that they have nothing in common or thus have nothing worth speaking about. whatever. the conversation was awkward anyway and the golden prince grows increasingly tired of the typical 'where are your parents?' and 'aren't you far from home?' questions anyway.

the golden prince leers at her and curls his lip in unfettered rebellion as she chides him and tells him that she should take leaf from her book and return home too. rusalka stands proud and fierce at his back and he isn't likely to do what she says just because she's an adult. she is a stranger and the only adults whose voice hold sway over him are those of the suns of his life. byeee. he chirps in an annoying falsetto after her with a snicker and gives a shake of his head as he turns and lopes further along down the border that passes between the sound and the tangle, flirting on the cusp of scent marker and feral wildlands proving her right: he absolutely does what he wants.