Blacktail Deer Plateau insensate

she was withdrawn; restless and listless by turns. sickness churned in her veins, a toxic and gnawing thing that had taken root long before basilica. she eroded slowly, until one evening the once-prophet locked herself away.

days in isolation. suffering. wasting. she wept once, for her islands. for her children.

it was the scent (@Ash Paw) which drew her from her dying. something beautiful and familiar and... maddening. something impossible to resist.

death was eternal; death could wait. she emerged wan and weak, seeking her husband. @Ingram. he sensed it too, he must; the whole of basilica must.

though ingram has noted the withdrawn nature of his nightwife since her return to basilica, he allows her her isolation. her solace where ever she would find it. for this, he is almost grateful given the upheaval that the girl had brought to their hearth and home.

better that she isolate herself away from it where ingram can think logically as opposed to being reactive as he was when ever she was near.

he is not ignorant to ash paw's scent: that sirens' call of a perfume; much more notable this season it'd been prior. to be expected: he was of age to help conceive.

temptation, as ash paw appears to make no moves to sequester herself away, threatens to dig it's claws into ingram. for while spirit may be the coalition of past commanders and daedra prince ... the vessel is still flesh and blood; and tempted to give into flesh and blood desires.

almalexia, croons ingram as their paths cross, surprised but pleased to see her emerge from her chosen place.

if he recognized the sickness festering within her, ingram spoke nothing of it. perhaps, she thought tiredly, he was content to let her die. perhaps he would replace her with the woman whose scent sang through the territory.

perhaps she would deserve such a fate.

if he held these secrets in his heart, her husband hid them well. her eyes shifted in the direction of the scent and the woman who bore it. what will you do? she asked, gaze still fixed to the distance.

at first, ingram is confused by her question; shown in the tilt of his head. then, he thinks he draws the conclusion, following the haphazard line of dots. ash paw was in heat and making no moves to sequester herself away; and in a pack full of mostly males that spelled, well, what it spelled.

she is not my nightwife, ingram tells her, she is not you.