Deepwood Weald If the ground is black and yellow

Forward dated to November 28th!

Tagging @Lumiya

Kynareth’s pissed. He’s trying not to be, but he is. Especially with Simmik’s little joke the other day. He needs time for himself, so as he left the beautiful territory of the Saints he promises he won’t be gone horribly long. A week and a half at most and probably not even that if travel is fair and he’s feeling up to par. 

Really he’s venturing out to fight, possibly even kill. The next unfortunate wolf, coyote, bear, cougar, elk, deer, what the hell ever that crosses his path is probably going to die. Or he’ll die trying. 

He’s calmed down some though a d is having a grand time exploring this odd née forest he’s found himself in. The must sticking ominously to the ground as day becomes night. The forest around him darkens as well. It doesn’t bother him. For others it might, but the creepy territory doesn’t even have him batting an eye at it. So he continues onward, not thinking anything unusual about anything in particular.

Imma say this happens before her confrontation with Orlaith so I can reply to this without worrying about that

Song she's hum-singing

She wasn't sure what had drawn her away from Kaistleoki for just a day that early morning. Perhaps it was the knowledge that soon winter would come, which made it a lot more difficult and unpleasant to travel. She always managed to run from her problems, yes, but she much rather do it before the snow flurries and icy winds. Autumn was even sadder in her eyes, with everything dying to make room for a new beginning. Winter was a time of solace and togetherness. Though the bareness of the world in winter was daunting, like the world had lost hope, spring always reared its head. It was beautiful, she found. Winter was perhaps her favourite season of all. She looked around the weald, which was when inspiration struck her.

"Walking in my sleep
Like the naked trees
Will they wake up again?
Do they sleep, do they dream?

Feel it as the wind strokes my skin
I am moved by the chill
Hear the winter bird sing"

She wasn't sure about what would come next in the song, so she let out a soft call, singing despite the lack of words she could come up with. It actually fit quite nicely. She'd gotten caught up in the autumn scenery and her song, unaware a familiar face was nearby.

I’m obsessed with your music choices. Very good song btw. ;)

Kynareth’s unaware of the other presence until it hits him full on. Too enraptured with his thoughts, he didn’t notice a whole other wolf just a few meters ahead of him. The beautiful fall colors of vibrant reds and golden yellows contrast nicely with their intricate pelt of blacks, whites, and greys. Until he notices exactly who that pelt belonged to. It jogged memories that he never truly forgot, but rather just never truly needed to think about too often. 

This was Lumiya, leader of the Fae in the Sunspire. What on gods green earth is she doing so far from home? He wonders briefly. Yet corrects himself upon remembering that she’s allied with the Wolf Avengers which all this in this general area — a bit more east if anyone wants to get specific.

So his grumpy face is slowly turning into a smile — albeit a small reluctant one and his ears a cup forward at the beautiful tune she sings. He’s slinking forward and forward, not bothering to be quiet and surely she’d hear him by now. His head held at a comfortable, casual height and his tail curled heavily on his hips, it bobs cutely as he saunters up beside her. 

“My, my, what do I have here?” He asks teasingly. “What’re you doing so far from your castle, your highness?” Comes his silky smooth voice, deep in octave and undeniably attractive. Though it’s possible she could see that he wasn’t in the best of moods. His smile doesn’t reach his golden orbs like it usually does.

But of course, a moment of peace never did last long in this world. The fall of her court was evidence of that. She could have expected many things to go wrong on her trip to the outside, given Hiero's warning about bears and whatnot, but he'd said nothing about stinking lowlifes.

A curious glance was cast in his direction, but she quickly rolled her eyes and trotted along. He didn't give up however, lining his body up with hers as she walked. I could ask the same of you, m'lord. She replied a little catty. She bothered not with picking up on cues that would usually be noticed by someone as observant as her - he'd proven not to be worth the trouble, nor did he want to be, apparently. She'd given him many chances to better himself, but given the circumstances, her patience was running a little low today.

Neither one of them seemed to be in the mood tonight. It shows in her sassy, borderline, careless why she speaks to the brindle. He, of course, cares little if she has the patience for him, for he wants so badly to try her. Contemplating in his mind whether or not to come off as an asshole this time or be a bit nicer. 

It does seem the beautiful lady is having a rough day after all. Usually she’s quite quirky and sweet — kind of. Not so much with him it seems. That doesn’t mean his attraction for her is lost though. So as he trots next to her he lowers his head slightly and his smile lessens to make it seem like he’s not teasing her.

“What’s wrong, darling? You seem different.” Is all he says, light concern spotting his voice and face. Given he doesn’t know too much about the Queen of Fae, he can still sense the bad vibes surrounding her.

Hadn't she told him not to call her darling? It seemed even more inappropriate after her recent joining with Dante. Never mind that - she wanted to know what the Fates were thinking, drawing Donovan ever closer to her in ways she didn't want. Some part of her was attracted to him, she wasn't going to lie to herself about that, but he was vile and cruel and they'd simply make an awful pair. Not to mention that she'd have to betray all of her morals, all she held close to her heart. If the Fates wanted romance, they could forget it.

I'm in perfect working condition. She answered, keeping her gaze focused straight ahead. Still, something bothered her about the way he seemed to care. Either he was a great actor, or she'd genuinely won over some part of him. The latter would be enough to keep her interested. Why do you pretend to care? She asked, her tone less offensive and more hurt by the thought.

I’m in perfect working condition. She says to him then. It makes him crack a small smile at the sass the woman has towards him. Surely just masked hatred or something else related. Yet, it doesn’t bother him. Rather he skates by as if she never said anything rude to him. 

Her next words make his quick smile turn into a frown. Obvious hurt sounding in her sweet voice and it causes him to furrow his brows. “Well, I never said you weren’t in working conditions, dear.” He points out first, no real sass in his voice, rather he carries a conversational tone more than anything. 

Then he continues on, he looks to her like she’s crazy and he laughs. It’s humorless and dry as if he doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t care. “Why wouldn’t I?” Then he finally says it. The words out in the open that they’ve been dancing around for sometime now. “Have I not been obvious in my interest towards you?” He states like there’s no way she didn’t see it.