Ravensblood Forest blood flutes

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Olive made the introductions calling the stranger beside her Armand, and Arturo drew his tongue across the inside of his teeth as she explained how she had came across him. The story was simple: she’d been wandering, struck up a conversation and had decided to bring the stranger home. The gangster had to bite back the soft, ironic laugh that threatened to escape him. She reminded him of a small child, innocent in the ways of the world, bringing home everyone she could find with faith so easily and explicably placed in them within the span of a single conversation. In this way, the Ceannasach felt all the more protective over Olive despite that she was a woman full grown. She was an intelligent woman, more spiritual than Arturo would ever be (again he was struck again by the knowledge that his mother would absolutely adore her) but she appeared to trust easily. Arturo was not blessed with that ability, either. His trust was hard earned. For good reason, the gangster honestly believed. Betrayal of trust, of him, of the Family would always equal death in his eyes. The price of his trust was a hefty one and once it was broken there was no mending it. There was a balance: a precarious one but a balance nonetheless.

Arturo trusted Olive. It was those outside the Family (excluding Skellige and his wolves, and of course his gangster queen Lotte) that Arturo did not trust. Olive vouched so readily for him, claiming before him that this Armand was a “good man”. Olive was a highly intuitive being, where as Arturo had to work to decipher others. He treated them like a puzzle: gleaming information from them and putting it together like a puzzle. His was not an intuition of sense but one of the mind; and it was no secret that the gangster enjoyed mind games (perhaps that was where Riptide had gotten it from). “Olive is a gift.” Arturo told the stranger sincerely, his fiery red-orange gaze settling upon the male then, assessing him carefully. For all intents and purposes he appeared, to the gangster, to be speaking with honesty. He hadn’t needed to admit he was “tormented” but he had and why would one make that up? There was no reason that Arturo could fathom but the mention of “tormented” caused a quicken of Arturo’s heart beat. He, too, had been tormented once. Riptide had been a parasite: Arturo’s own torment, his punishment for attempting to scale the Keep when he was no mountain beast. So what was Armand’s torment? It caused Arturo’s muscles to stiffen, a glint of distrust in the gangster’s eyes. “And what torment is that?” Arturo inquired, not sure that he expected an answer.

“Teaghlaigh is a Family, first and foremost. We are extremely tight knit and territorial. Given that, those who first join our ranks are not actually apart of the Family. They are given a…transitional rank, a place holder until they earn their official rank and place among us or they are chased out—” Put bluntly. Arturo saw no point in lingering if one had no intention to actually join the ranks of the Family. It was senseless and there were other packs that would be more willing to accept them. “You can think of the Comhlach rank as an associate of the Family. There are two laws that Teaghlaigh is expected to obey and enforce: The Ceannasach’s word is law and The Family before everything else.” Arturo had already demonstrated his willingness to disown and otherwise disassociate himself and Teaghlaigh with anyone who could not conform to those laws. “To betray the family means death.” Betrayal was not anything Arturo would ever take lightly, but that applied more to those who had earned their place among the Family then the Comhlach’s as there wasn’t much for them to betray Teaghlaigh with (if anything at all). Without his red herring he was uncertain who to take her place temporarily and thus found himself settling for the vague.

“Knowing that, if your want to join us remains, your time as a Comhlach will not be easy. If you accept, you will be required to meet the members of The Family, associate with them. And you will be assigned a task to complete and report back to me.” Arturo gave pause, salmon pink tongue drawing across his lips for a moment, glimpsing at Olive from the corner of his eye. Providing the terms were accepted the gangster would continue on with the important question: “What skills can you bring to Teaghlaigh? What strength can you add to our Family?” As it would determine the nature of the task assigned, should Armand accept.

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