Seaside Moors Once, you know, you were my friend.

Wintersbane arrived, coming along in long purposeful strides that called back to a more leonine order. Raleska’s gaze assessed him flatly, noticing he looked wary and perhaps a little tired. 

No small wonder, after all — he was a stranger among a lion’s den. 

She afforded a rare smile. It did not reach her eyes nor flatten the alertness of her ears, but it was a change from the virulent hate that had contorted her face only a few days prior. 

Well, no use beating around the bush. Raleska took in a deep breath, canting her head sidelong so she could watch him as she spoke. I owe you an apology. Her words were contrite, and it was hard for one as proud as she to admit it. I shouldn’t follow an apology with a long, elaborate reason for my behavior — but we’ve had this happen before. Vercingetorix. It’s left a bad taste in my mouth. Anyway. You said you wanted to prove to me you were different. That this time, it would be different. Had he meant that? Raleska surveyed him slyly, wondering if he really was different from all the others. I’m here because I love my family, and Rusalka. Not you. But, maybe I can put my pride to the side and work with you — to make it all better.