Sunbeam Lair bury the hatchet

mercenary I. can also be used as a relevant pack founding thread. back dated to 1/13.

salvatore, having no connections that he needs to inform of his decision to stay in the lair with those bhediya has begun to play host to, isn't sure what the hybrid woman intends to do in regards to her current pack. will she return? or will she stay with those she has gathered and attempt to disappear? easier said than done, he thinks, especially when she is a leader. maybe one day he will ask her but as he's still a relatively new face and wasn't super forthcoming about what he told them about whalebone loch he doesn't want to pry.

trust is earned; a hard life lesson he unfortunately had to learn thru watching his mother trust too easily and be used over and over and over again.

there aren't borders yet — hell, he's not even sure they could even be considered a pack; but he finds familiarity in the actions of patrolling even if there isn't anything to really defend.

:)

empryean wasn't...empyrean, yet. bhediya had never envisioned herself leading her own pack; even after having helped start two and assisting in the leadership of one, she wasn't sure pack creation was her "thing". however, she had more to think about than just herself. she couldn't have her children at the emberwood, not while pygmalion was around. what were her options?

leaving the lair and taking a short walk down the mountainside, the seraph quickly caught sight of salvatore. she called to him as she approached — hey! — bumping into his shoulder as the pair fell into stride. how are you today?

its not the arrival of the wolfdog to-be leader bhediya per se that surprises him but rather the platonic bump of her shoulder against his. he knows its a greeting and yet that it doesn't come from stitch or frankie is a little bit alarming to the blackbird; never mind that neither mother nor sister inhabit these wilds. ❝uh hey,❞ a few seconds of composure later and the return of coal glow gaze back to his chosen path — just in time too! for he steps around a thin, albeit tall sapling before reuniting at bhediya's side once more.

❝i'm fine.❞ salvatore replies simply to her inquiry with a small roll of his shoulders. ❝— how're you?❞ a knee-jerk return of pleasantries

i'm okay, bhediya replied. the final syllables were emphasized, drawn-out to communicate her skepticism. there was something odd about salvatore that she couldn't quite place, so with a smile she asked, you sure you're alright? he could have just preferred formal conversation, which she would have respected, but still...

the pair continued on their path. looking up at sal (as one must so often do), she gave another grin but stopped herself from another shoulder bump. are you...patrolling? bhe wondered, having already assumed this to be the case, i'm not very good at it but i make for decent company.

a beat of silence transpires between them as they walk; salvatore's pace slowed to accommodate her shorter legs ...and then she speaks: replying in the same, simple manner that he had. she asks again, her choice of words making it clear that she wasn't convinced. no doubt she ( and the others? ) knew there were things he was keeping out about whalebone loch but those things were awful things and he didn't want to speak about them; private. even if he wanted to share those things he wasn't even sure how to. there is something about being in such close proximity to anyone who is not his own blood that unsettles him; a perfunctory stimulus drilled into him by killgrave. blind eye stares unseeingly as he glimpses at her from the corner of his coalglow eye before the path demands his attention once more. ❝yeah just ...things are different here. what you're hoping to build is different from what i knew growing up. its gonna take some getting used to.❞

and that is all he offers on the matter.

❝if it can be considered patrolling when there aren't any actual borders yet,❞ salvatore teases with a small, brief curl of his lips. ❝well, i can't turn down decent company.❞ he invites her to continue on the patrol with him and falls silent, weighing his question. ❝can i ask you something?❞ he doesn't really wait for a response.

❝if you don't agree with whatever's happening at your pack that makes you not wanna raise your family there ... then ...why not just implement changes? you're a leader there; you've got status and respect of the pack. wouldn't that be easier than trying to start all over?❞ he asks out of little more than sheer curiosity; salvatore doesn't mean to step on her toes and is ready to apologize should she take his question for something other than it was.

salvatore was disinterested in talking about the loch. bhediya understood this; talking about her birthplace was still difficult, even all these years later. she didn't want to impose, and so moved past his slight dismissal with an understanding sigh. i'm happy that you're willing to try, is all she said before laying the topic to rest.

we'll make a border, she told him. it was an important part of settling (right?) so it'd have to be prioritized (...right?). bhediya figured that by taking the initiative, sal was establishing himself as a mercenary. powers, she said, still looking onward down the path, they're the spirits which guide your trade. guardian, i'm assuming? 

it felt strange to remember her natal religion, to acknowledge their gods; it'd been so long since they'd last communed. bhediya still couldn't figure out why they'd come to her now, but figured all would be revealed in due time. 

then came salvatore's questions, which were each given a moment's thought. after having shared the story with uaine gorsedd, doing the same with empyrean felt much less daunting. there wasn't a problem with the pack, she began with a gentle hum, it's...it's a great group and i've got love for them all.

a pause. a man named pygmalion wanted to hurt me. he was my mate, but i didn't choose him. he chose me, in a way. she remembered his confession — i love you, dammit! — and shuddered, disgusted by her own response. i handled it the best that i could, but it isn't just about me anymore.

❝guardian ...warrior; they're all subsidiaries of mercenary.❞ and in truth they were fine line distinctions at that. ❝so the spirits that guide mercenaries are powers spirits?❞ spirituality was all a bit over salvatore's head, admittedly. it was hard to think that anything more existed when he'd grown up how he had. nothing had showered the loch with mercy and guided killgrave off a cliff or anything useful. ❝hm —❞ he draws in contemplation.

salvatore is quiet as she explains that it wasn't the pack but rather someone in the pack. a man. pygmalion. chose her as his mate but she didn't choose him and wanted to hurt her. it all sounded familiar. he doesn't ask how her will had been ushered away to bend to his: he already knows how it happens. ❝that's really unfortunate. i'm sorry that happened to you,❞ salvatore says gravely. ❝i can double patrols, if you want.❞ salvatore offers unsure of how safe she feels or if her mate will show up at the lair spitting nails.

if he was anything like killgrave letting her go wasn't something that would be idly watched; let alone allowed.

powers, yes, bhediya replied with a nod of her head, mercenaries, hunters; men in general, if i remember correctly. the virtues were the group she was most well-versed in, though she knew a bit about dominions. for powers, she really only knew the basics.

the members of the pack would be invited to the lessons she planned to give her children. if salvatore showed interest, she would welcome him to learn more.

she appreciated his condolences, but thought that they were unnecessary. i'm not, bhe told him with a shake of her head, it is unfortunate, but the experience taught me a lot. over time, as she healed, she knew that things would get easier. the wounds were still fresh, though; it would be a long journey. 

bhediya didn't think that pygmalion would know to come here, but she appreciated salvatore's offer. i'd like that, she told him. dwelling on such things as one's past made for an awkward third conversation. 

so, she introduced a new topic. can you teach me how to patrol? i think marking is self-explanatory, but... what did one have to look out for? when a problem appeared, what were the steps to solving it? the seraph was infinitely curious and hoped that sal wouldn't mind.

❝ah,❞ is offered to her as she explains further that the 'powers' fall upon men in general: hunting and mercenaries primarily. ❝what if a woman is a hunter or mercenary? is she still guided by the 'powers' then or are they gender specific as well as trade specific?❞ he inquires. stitch hadn't believed in anything bigger than herself and the only gods killgrave prayed to was the self-indulgence of greed and lust. he could remember, once, when he was a child an elder whispering to him as he cured him of fever that the whales were thought to be gods and that their beachings were gratitude for their faith. ...from what salvatore garnered from religions ( in general ) it was that the mortals did most of the offerings.

with the flow and ebb of their conversation, there is a raise of scarred brow as she comments that she wasn't sorry that she ended up in that situation. he takes it to mean that he doesn't want her pity; and in that moment she reminds him of his mother. salvatore can't help but think that if they'd have known each other they'd have gotten along. ❝you sound like my mom.❞ he says admits before he can catch himself; words spilling off his tongue in a moment of forgetfulness. indirectly, he might've given her a clue as to what kind of life he's come from and he bites his tongue a bit too harshly in response to his own lapse.

❝uh, yeah. yeah, i'll teach you.❞ although, he rather thought there wasn't much to it. perhaps once he'd thought thru all the steps involved: the do's and don't's in the rules of engagement. it was all second nature to him now. ❝so, it's kinda like hunting, i guess. when patrolling you gotta rely on your senses: hearing and smelling, mostly. vision, not so much. your sense of vision can be fooled. easily, too; by shadows, by the flutter of foliage or underbrush, the skirt of leaves or sway of grass.❞ especially if one was a paranoid patroller. ❝and as i, personally, can only see outta one eye i don't rely on it as i once did when patrolling.❞ there were far too many margins for error since the incident.

❝sense of smell can also be fooled too. if the wind isn't drifting your way it's harder to pick up incoming scents and stale scents might mix with fresh ones to confuse you. it's your hearing you wanna put the most faith in. when you hear footfalls you wanna focus on the gait. you know what small animals sound like: rabbits and the like. footfalls are shorter and much softer. anything worrying is pretty tell-tale; even the stealthiest wolf can be heard and if they want to be found they won't be sneaking up.❞

❝as far as handling loners or other pack wolves at the borders or trespassers well... —❞ salvatore pauses here for a moment. ❝how we mercenaries of this lair handle that is largely up to you.❞ this was her show, after all. she called the shots; she was the one that pointed and told him to shoot.

how could one explain the patronage system without fully understanding it themself? bhediya figured that it would be okay to add some pieces for comprehension and if she was incorrect about something, empyrea would tell her. it's trade-specific. so since she's guided by powers, she will be called a power. 

and if she chooses to follow the religion, bhediya continued, she can pray to sainah, the mother, or sohim, the father. she hadn't anticipated salvatore's slew of questions but found herself quite honored by it. besides, it gave her a chance to think about ranks and how their system would be formatted.

sal likened a patrol to a hunt, immediately discouraging bhe. she was horrible at hunting, and only partially because of her small size. in truth, she'd given up learning some time ago and was disinterested in picking it back up. still, she listened to him speak, hoping that it would help them to form a stronger bond. 

when he was finished, she said, it sounds easy enough. she hadn't thought about how to respond to threats (that was really the point in asking), so his final comment didn't receive an immediate answer. 

thinking about it, bhediya knew that she didn't want to be too harsh or too relaxed; empyrean would fall somewhere mid-spectrum. but what would that look like? you're the only mercenary here, that i know of, she told him, so what would you suggest? we can go from there, if you have any ideas.

❝sainah or sohim,❞ the names feel foreign upon his tongue as he says them: surely as not straightforward as 'frankie' or his mother's preferred nickname 'stitch'. ❝i'll try to remember those.❞ he says with a sheepish grin that subtly says he makes no promises. he doesn't come right out and admit to her that he isn't religious and the idea is kind of hard for him to get behind but ...as she hasn't said it was absolutely mandatory he doesn't see it being too much of an issue, presumably.

salvatore hasn't really expected her to turn to him for suggestions on how to handle wolves at the borders or trespassers. killgrave was all aggression on and off the borders. from what he's seen thus far of bhediya he can't say that he sees her taking the aggressive approach. ❝personally, i like the 'stony and cautious until proven otherwise' approach. once proven that they are looking to join or are here on friendly terms then i try to loosen up and not be so much of a hard ass.❞ he laughs with a small shake of his head — as if he knew how to be anything else. ❝guess it's best to tailor things on what kinda place you're trying to build here. obviously, security is important especially if you're aim is to build a family. you wanna protect the cubs and properly vet interested wolves, make sure they're sound and not gonna walk off with the cubs or something.❞ or slaughter them because they do not come of their own loins as killgrave had done.

❝as for trespassers ...i say act with aggression. anyone that crosses the borders is a 'hurt first, ask questions later' case. i'm not sayin' they gotta be killed but they should definitely have consequences to their actions. otherwise, they keep coming back. stealing food and resources or hurting our own. or start telling their friends or something.❞ 'open borders' wasn't his thing — and maybe that was too much of his old man in him. for a moment, he blanches, the scars of his face paling significantly as he makes the connections of just how much he sounded like the usurper king in that moment; but the blackbird shakes it off.

❝but uh, at the end of the day i'll do it how you want me to, boss.❞

salvatore's suggestions seemed to fit her expectations. bhediya did want to build a family, connected by both blood and choice. this required a certain level of skepticism when dealing with outsiders, but as had been suggested, all those willing would be given the chance to join them. she was happy that this conversation had come up with sal; the others might not have been able to provide such insight. 

but his final comment — i'll do it how you want me to, boss — made bhe a bit uncomfortable. she decided to laugh it off, responding, don't call me boss. the title implied a level of power that she did not want to have. while she did plan to lead, she didn't plan to be the boss.

bhediya gave salvatore the benefit of the doubt and figured that this was simply a misinterpreted joke. i'll be called seraph, she said, but just bhe is fine, too.

don't call me boss, she tells him. it'd been a 'roll off the tongue' kinda thing but a twitch of scarred brow is given all the same. in his experience wasn't that what leaders were supposed to be? the boss(es). the supreme power. the usurper king had been totalitarian and salvatore finds himself a bit confused that he's appeared to make her uncomfortable despite her laugh ( not for the first time ). there were going to be hard times when hard calls were made ...so who was going to make them, if not her? so she wanted to lead but she didn't want the power associated with it? he hadn't been kidding when he'd told her that things were different — much more so than he'd initially realized even.

❝outta the two, which do you prefer? title or nickname?❞ salvatore asks so he doesn't misstep again.

did bhediya have a preference? gathering "recruits" would be more complicated than expected. each one had a different background and story; as salvatore had said, this pack would be different from where he'd come from. 

call me seraph, she told him. from what she'd gathered, he was more comfortable using titles. she was having some trouble understanding this because in her experience, to address someone by their title was an unconventional practice. 

this train of thought led to more questions which she was hesitant to ask. have you ever led before? she asked him, wanting to distract herself from her own train of thought.

call me seraph.

❝alright,❞ salvatore murmurs. ❝i can do that.❞ calling her by 'title' felt a bit better than calling her so informally by the nickname she offers him. maybe given time he could address her more informally if that was truly how she wish to be addressed but for now seraph works just fine. it gave him that sense of formality that killgrave demanded — from respected elder all the way to his own spawns.

his attention divides, splitting between bhediya and their chosen path were he supposes they are sorta working to put down borders here and now. unfortunately, his gaze remains steady on the path and it puts her in his blindspot and as he trusted her the first night and every night following he trusts her now. an ear flicks lazily in her direction at her question, surprise rising his scarred brow. ❝i've never led; no.❞ salvatore tells her after a short pause to sniff at the scents, struggling to determine if they were scents to be worried about or not but he is put to ease by the fact that her scent appears to be laced with their own.

❝how many of us are there?❞ he inquires then, ears fluttering back as his head whips towards the pines in what would become neutral territory eventually. a lower limb cracked with the weight of the heavy snow bowing it and limb and snow fall to the ground. realizing that it's not a threat, the muscles that pull as taunt as a bow string relax.

bhediya watched salvatore tense and did the same. she hadn't noticed anything alarming, but figured that to be the difference between a mercenary and a scout. she thought about kukulkan and wondered if the pair would get along. 

there numbers weren't impressive. the seraph refrained from comparing empyrean to uaine gorsedd; she was able to recognize that the latter was more established. their numbers would grow in time. 

there's the two of us, she told him, a girl named kaori, and another called moonshine. the men (or man) were outnumbered but it was a hardly a concern...for now, anyway. i'm hoping more faces turn up. 

sal didn't come off as being particularly social, but she still said, if you find someone worthwhile, bring them back?

there was four of them so far ...an impressive number for being little more than an idea. ❝it's not a bad start,❞ salvatore points out to her, giving a small nod of his head. being outnumbered by the fairer sex doesn't faze him at all. he'd always been outnumbered in the small trio of his family and beyond that killgrave hadn't been keen on keeping many males within his ranks. one or two trusted generals and bodyguards and one of them had been made a eunuch to ensure he didn't sneak around with any of the concubines.

❝yeah ...i'll be sure to do that.❞ salvatore assures her though he isn't super confident on his ability to recruit if because he's never done it before. given half the chance he'd have told every poor unfortunate soul that found their way to whalebone loch to turn around and get as far away as they could.

ready to wrap?

salvatore didn't sound particularly excited, but she didn't doubt his sincerity. bhediya figured that if each one of them worked on recruiting, it wouldn't take long for their numbers to grow. thank you, she said. 

she wanted to give him some time to finish his patrol (or creation) of the border. nodding her goodbye, the seraph assured him, i'll see you later, back at home base. a small smile, and she was off to the lair.

a few moments follow the talk of recruiting before she announces that she'll see him back at home base. ❝alright,❞ salvatore muses, concentration upon the task at hand broken as she spoke. ❝see you back at base.❞ he returns after her retreating form before continuing forth with the creation of borders staying out well after the sun has set.