The Sentinels If—

Flaris spent a lot of time reflecting; analyzing past events so that he could never forget them or the lessons accompanying them. He could find guidance in the most prosaic moments, and wisdom in tranquility. The wolf scoured his memories then, going day to day as he could recall them, and searched for the significance in each one that passed through his thoughts. Outwardly, with his slow breaths and lidded eyes, the tellurian swain appeared to meditate in the dull tide of evening. His body lie stretched into the resting arc of a sphinx, and insects flocked silently around him as if dancing by firelight. 

He could remember a dusk or two much like this, and could almost feel the presence of his mother beside him.

A weight had been set upon her shoulders, one she had been expecting, though she had not known just how heavy it would be— and though doubts had crept into her mind in the weeks leading up to this day, they had not prepared her for the uncertainty that filled each fiber of her being. Still, she could not bear to let her sister down. And though Emaleth was quiet and withdrawn, there was a fire of ambition that burned within her breast. This was, perhaps, her time to rise and claim it.

She had little interest in her pack mates before— they were not of her blood, and therefore not worth her time— but the new responsibility had shifted her beliefs. If she were to lead them, she must know them as Deirdre did. And so the dark witch moved through the wood, feeling alive in the dusk, until she came upon a silhouette. Emaleth watched the insects move around it in the waning light, perhaps divining something from their pattern, and after a moment said, "Hello."

A benign greeting on the air caused a flick of heather ears and the parting of heavy lids that revealed a pair of curious red eyes, seeking the source of yon quiet bidding. His gaze rested upon a sable wraith, standing just past the ring of shadows that would otherwise consume her. Flaris pulled back his ears and neatly inclined his ochre muzzle; though not before noticing that her eyes were two different and equally exquisite colors. "Good evening, madame," the dryad answered, his reserved baritone resonating in the space between them. "I would ask you to join me, if you would have me."

she remained motionless as he beckoned her, observing him and considering her response in silence. emaleth was rarely quick to speak or act, for she believed that such things carried weight-- and one must be sure of and accept their consequences before committing. she thought this was a moment that would define her. what kind of leader she might choose to be. for some things of this were decided already for her-- that she was young and inexperienced, a mayfair, a witch.

she could choose to decline his invitation, or seek to assert her dominance over him. she could be the hard edge in balance to the soft embrace that was her sister. she could show tooth or she could show empathy.

emaleth moved to him, though kept space between them for her own comfort-- and lay, paws elegantly crossed. her head remained high, and she considered him further, making note of his features and scent. "ser," she answered by way of second greeting, "i do not believe we have met."

"You wouldn't have," he admitted kindly— "I am afraid I'm terribly new to the Sentinels. But your sentry Cas, and your elfen queen Deirdre, have invited me to stay in exchange for my worth, if that pleases you." With a warm smile pulling broadly across his mouth, Flaris closed his ruby eyes against her open appraisal, seeming to absorb the shine of her bi-colored eyes in reposing embrace. His lids peeled open slowly to behold her face blissfully, and he was pleased to see that she had not yet retreated from her position beside him. "My name is Flaris, my dear, and you are a woman captured both by earth and sea, but what may I call you as a name?"

she accepted his words with the smallest of nods— if deirdre had welcomed him, she judged his character sound, and emaleth trusted her sister. the watcher would not need to scrutinize him, at least not as intensely as she might do of others. "flaris," she responded, "it is good to meet you. i am emaleth, twin of our queen." this was obviously not quite true, but she spoke of their entwined souls, each a half of something much greater than either. "the second of this pack. donnelaith is integral to my soul; it is my blood."

"Ah, the night's beloved moon, to the day's glowing star. You are well met, Emaleth. I am glad to be in the presence of our second queen. I am eternally grateful for sharing your blood and soul with me." His ruby eyes watched her, passing over her sleek, inkwell features; her blossoming air of maturity. Flaris fancied her spirit immediately, fearless to pry for what he desired. "What would you tell me of you, my queen? I truly wish to know you."

"do not trust words," she told him, almost sternly, "nor your assumptions. they lie to you." emaleth did not know what compelled her to speak so harshly, but she knew that she had no desire to tell this perfect stranger about herself. it was uncomfortable, perhaps because she was young or perhaps because she did not trust outsiders so easily or perhaps still because she didn't think she knew herself well enough to tell him anything of value. "i'm sorry, ser," she corrected herself swiftly, "but i do not think i have time to chat, after all."

without another word, she turned to show him a lifted tail, and made her way deeper into the wood and out of sight.