Duskfire Glacier tri

today her climbing had her over the river, upon a glacier that stood silent in the clouded afternoon. from here she tried to examine any weakspots in the lands between. yet curiosity too got the best of her as she discovered a cave system.

the sound of water pulled her in deeper to where the largest cavern opened up into a waterfall display. should the river ever need to move even further, she imagines this place just above them is not so terrible a spot. but it is now one of her many tasks to make sure it does not come to that.

so in this moment she is only an explorer for them and allowed herself to be tempted closer to the waterfall, to where the mist spraying off of it was thickest. the ground slick.

the mighty reine de Feumont had returned from a far-reaching tour of her lands, where she'd hunted prey that had collected eastwise in her absence. most of note was a bachelor group of four young bucks, led by an elder in his prime. she thought him a good trophy, in aesthetics and symbolism equally, and so spent a good few days on making him so - from flowing blood to shaped bone.

now she returned with the buck's crown - beautiful set of velvet-encased antlers, still connected to a segment of skull. in the queen's great pride as she entered her stronghold, she missed the subtle signs of a foreigner, until her descent into darker halls - where she'd found a ribcage, very deliberately placed in one corner as décor, moved out of place as if to mock her sensibilities.

the wildling crown clattered to the floor. with a sharp inhale the queen sought further traces of someone's invasion, aghast to find them not faded as a cowardly thief's would be - but daringly fresh.

her majesty knew so far in one could be led to either her chambers, or the fountain room. scent or sound, which would this brut be enticed by?

in vanity she picked, and screamed into the hall leading into her bedchambers - this sound of rage sharpened to a piercing point sent in reverberation and repeat through all segments of her palais, including the fountain room where water thundered, the queen's back turned to the hall at the end of which it laid.

perhaps she had been content to ignore the signs. the bones or old things scattered about as if someone had lazily strewn their decorations. none of the scents had been fresh enough for her to feel immediate panic at them. she had half a mind to take a bone or two back with her for the children of the river.

only a shrill, murderous sound rang through the caverns. whatever beauty she might have been prepared to indulge in was halted firmly by fear when the lady of the house returned.

quickly she pressed her ice stone self against a cave wall. dependent on her own hues to help shelter her. yet the largest issue was that between her and the exit would be the one who wailed banshee. slowly she dragged herself along the cavern wall, desperate to see if there was another way out.

being boxed in by a cougar seemed like the easiest way for her to perish or come away maimed — a reality that seemed certain when she caught a glimpse of a long tail, of reddish feline hues.

she waited; for sounds of fumbling peasant feet as they hurried to hide or escape, for a face to show itself at the end of the hallway, for a pleading voice to beg for mercy.

none such. la reine's eyelid twitched and tail lashed as the wait dragged on, all quiet but for her own sharp breaths.

with some thought that she'd just missed the invader's exit as she arrived, the madame turned -

and saw un loup.

there was a moment where her emerald eyes were wide and glowing in the half-dark, and all was quiet and still but for the twitch of her whiskers.

then, in a voice calm only because all the anger within it had grown white hot and pristine;

you 'ave. one sontons*. to explain yourself.

a swipe of tail.

*sentence

it spoke to her. it demanded an explanation.

cougar, minted ice, masculine.

the scents were perhaps simply synonymous with the glacier and that was why she had missed them all. could a feline truly be reasoned with? would she fair better if she groveled or stood firm? senka may have been large, chiseled and healthy but that meant nothing against claws.

i did not know, it might have sounded like a lame excuse if she had not said it with such genuine misunderstanding and fear.

she had learned as a child that not knowing the rules did not make you exempt from them. did felines think this way too?

...did not KNOW?! it ended in a scream, hands flexing to sharp points - yet quickly sheathed. the given mien had placated her.

with a dismissive huff the queen turned, to pace in front of the daring little thief come into her home.

did not know, did not know, je ne savais pas. the last she repeated in a mocking voice, before realizing such a crack improper for her station, and continuing her pacing in silence to calm her breathing.

...told le rêveur, told monsieur imeut... she whispered to herself. ils ne savent pas? mes hommes sont-ils si timides?

toi! the queen sharply turned her head. slowly, steps deliberate, she returned to the loup, raising her chin so she might look down on the beast.

'ave you not 'eard? of la reine de Feumont? queen of zhis land? hm? where are you fhrom? rhiver pakh?

one claw impatiently tapped.

it screamed and the sound alone was loud enough to produce nausea. in this closed in space? it made her head spin with the volume of it, ricocheting around the halls, around her skull.

senka had the good sense to not interrupt or dare to try and speak over it.

the creature stared down at her. "'ave you not 'eard? of la reine de Feumont?" these titles were lost upon her. what exactly did they mean? rhiver pakh obviously had to be qeya. it made her stomach toil with a sickness to think that the cougar knew of the family situated below the glacier.

did it plan to hunt them? poach caches even?

we have not heard of you, but you know us. senka did not exactly feel comforted by this reality she had found herself in.

oh oui oui, rihverk pakh, down by colde' wate', oui, ee know...

la reine moved again, in motion with the roll of her eyes, now down the hall leading out.

ee wished to send diplomat, be for-mal, be phroper neighbo' boot ee guess not- she paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. you follo', loup?

the swing of her tail was a gesture.

senka had somehow became a lap dog. perhaps for the sliver of survival that was tied like a bell around a cat's neck.

i am river pack ranger, not officially, but hadn't silvertongue used that title for her before? if it kept everyone alive. what is formal message you wish to send?

look, see? i am good lap dog. i send your message directly.

WAH srry for the holdup!

it quite cooled her nerve that the loup took to her unspoken command, acted as was proper in the court of one such as she - supplicant and soft-spoken. made her lips curl in accompaniment to a pleased noise.

the queen walked the paths which led outside, haughty under assumption the ranger obediently followed.

mm, see, ee believe we can live in peace, non? as neighbo'z. bene-fit from one ano-ther. is that not 'ow even you form allionce?

lash of tail; swish of skirts.

ee would like your lead-er to cons-ider being amies - zhat's friends. ee allow you to 'unt in my londs, offer my protection against common eh-nem-ee et toi offer... pay-ment, in turn.

a portion of your kill as, um, tithe, or small fav-ors when need be, et per'aps... allowing me to educate your young in courtly manner, mm?

there was more light in these rooms. la reine du Feumont turned to face the emissary - she herself a gate between the depths and the exit.

does so please you, petit loup?

a touch of humor in the quirk of her lips - but her eyes were stern.

neighbors! alliances!

senka was perplexed by why a beast such as this one would want to build alliances. most large felines were enough to strike fear into the heart of those around it. perhaps it might want alliances so it would not be hunted.

this beast wanted to be paid for protection and give allowance for the wolves to hunt in the claims made by this feline. did it please her?

a polite nod. i will carry your words and terms to river leaders. then i will carry their words back to you. obedient and willing to do this in exchange for leaving here with her life, with her fur in place. i will be your diplomat, yes?

and the cold melted from her eyes. the queen smiled, stepping aside to reveal tempting daylight at the end of the hallway.

mm, your kind lhhearn so quick! très bien.

she'd walk beside the loup the rest of the way, at a languid pace she expected the other to match. would it not be rude to exit with haste?

oui oui, ee expect much et good bhhond between our group, mademoiselle...?

she looked for a name out the corner of her eye.

maybe fade and i promise smth soon as i know what her timeline is? <3

there was something special about being praised by a feline. instead of maimed or demolished. she did not like the way it warmed her.

senka, a dip of her head. it was the closest thing to a bow that she knew how to do. while it might have felt odd to defer to a mountainous cat, she imagined her life would be much worse if she didn't.