Ravensblood Forest thaumatrope

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Doe’s words confirmed her reason for being there, much like the last and only time she had visited his borders before it had been about the fierce red herring. Though the gangster had not expected his allies to give much care to his murdered red herring it did not surprise him that Doe came to him. Palisander had done well on spreading the news though if the man had learned anything to assist them in the hunt for the culprit Arturo had yet to hear of it though somewhere in the realist’s heart he knew that his allies would not be able to help him. He could not help the idea that they would never find the male responsible and that Furiosa’s death would go without the weight of The Family’s judgement upon the heart of the guilty and she would remain unavenged. It was not something that the Fearghal monarch had wished to see unresolved but there was only so much that he and Teaghlaigh could do without spreading themselves too thin and without endangering each other. Life kept going and so, too, must they. Arturo’s muscles pulled taunt beneath his coarse winter fur as Doe crept towards him. His fiery red-orange gaze watched her with unbidden intensity and with the soft furrow of his brow displayed his confusion as she neared him.

Yet, the gangster did not recoil from her. While Arturo wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Doe he did not believe that she would harm him. Not that he would let her, mind, but he did not feel threatened by her. “Thank you,” Arturo murmured quietly when she spoke that they (he assumed to be Blackrock Depths) were with him. Though Arturo did not always agree with Skellige’s eagerness for war (as the eagerness to steal back the Isles came to his mind) the Leviathan had his undiluted respect nevertheless and Arturo would stand behind him. Of the two alliances, the one with Skellige and the Depth wolves would always be the most personal to the gangster. Donnelaith had been an advantage, there because it had seemed convenient to ally himself with the young queen of the Sentinels, both for Teaghlaigh and very personal reasons to Arturo (namely Lotte).

The touch of Doe’s nose to his chin was slightly alarming to Arturo who accepted it with a soft noise of gratitude in his throat, his tail giving a soft wag against his hocks. The display was highly unusual and not one that he would have expected from Doe given their past encounters with one another — the first of which Arturo did not remember. Yet, if it was a olive branch Arturo would not turn it away. “How are you holding up? I know you cared for her.”

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