Wild Berry Meadow XXXIV
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Ooc — ebony
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#1
All Welcome 
@Avicus (please to post first!) & @Makono (+ anyone else she wants to bring!

the giant place of red stone stood above the flatlands.

it cast a long shadow of red that sat like a lake of blood amid the snow. 

here augur had hesitated. here he called for red woman. the killer's path was very faint now but it moved toward the distant hinterlands. yet he did not know this new place.

he did not know he was watched by eyes which protected the unknown territory.
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Ooc — mercury
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it seemed as if Nyra had slipped from the Dreadfather's lair sight unseen, a wispy white shadow. who knew if she'd died along the way back to her home; Avicus fervently hopes she had. 

even if it means sacrificing the act of revenge.

she would trouble the Wilds no more, if so.

Augur's call brings her anxiously to him, despite her aching joints and phlegm-coated lungs. she coughs even as she pulls alongside him, an ugly, barking sound. she looks away, less with a knowledge of disease theory and more with embarrassment that he could see her as anything less than wholly hale and hearty.

once the coughing fit subsides, she glances his way and nods toward the ruddy landmass ahead, brows lifting in a silent question.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#3
teo if you don't want to pop in, i'm happy to assume he's just present with her! <3

she brought the medjay @Bayek with her, for their patrol had already taken them this far.

curious why a smoldering flame and snow mountain lurked upon their fringes. she approached with the stance of a commanding soldier, she expected the medjay to stay steadfast along her side. trusting that he would be quick to act should anything miss her gaze.

why have you come looking without a word?

not harsh, yet, but she was prepared to be if they did not give good reason.
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Ooc — ebony
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#4
a young woman.

a dark man.

both were honed and rangy. the young wolf held herself with the bearing of an alpha female.

augur would defer to his. he stepped to red woman's side and for now he waited for the words to begin.

they were both ill and so he kept his space from the newcomers, turning aside with a low cough.
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Ooc — Teo
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#5
Bayek stood beside Prince Makono with a steady gaze on their visitors. 

The white make coughed, drawing the Medjay’s eye. He was suspicious of the sickness, but did not speak. The man was there for Makono, and only Makono. His job was to protect while she conducted her business with the strangers. 

Short, but I am here! <3
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#6
eventually, two come from the direction of that towering red landmark, one clearly superior to the other. and the superior is very young—perhaps her daughters' age, or a bit older (but only just). it surprises her, somewhat, but she notes that Redd and Lilia carry themselves in the same fashion.

a princess, maybe.

war, Avicus responds to the girl's query. a whihe womanh kill one of our own. an' nohh' firrh' 'hhime. we are looking for her—an' warning oh'her packhh'.

ah, would it be that Augur could talk! she misses Prophet, suddenly, though she doesn't begrudge her huntmaster's solid pale presence beside her.

but she feels tongue-tied and a bit foolish before this eloquent girl.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#7
war.

the things she heard stories of and trained for. a tactician, was she not? trained by the roman in the mountains and blessed with the strength of akashingo.

there was warmth in her gaze for a moment, for the red woman.

i am a tactician. and a crown prince, destined to handle these things. to make a name for herself beyond akashingo too!

tell me of your war. i may be able to help.

and she meant it.
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#8
tell me of your war.

hasn't she? Avicus wrinkles her brow at the young woman, silently questioning. bigh' whihe woman, she repeats, in case that was not clear, kill our own. kill my moh'her, 'hhoo. we go af'hher her.

perhaps she's been lost in translation. snakelike, she flicks her ragged tongue forward—more in explanation than in jest—and retracts it, scowling.

can you help? whah' your pack?
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude