Boartusk Heights upon return

what had her mother said?

agrippina tried desperately to remember as cold rain slanted down upon her, threatening the few footholds she managed to secure upon the rock face.

"we are never leaving this place, girl. never. he will never allow it. make your peace with dying here, agrippina. death is the only thing that is truly yours.

filthy knuckles pressed into the corner of her mouth. a sob shredded her throat. but in the flash of lightning which forked across the early morning sky, she saw gentle grass leading up toward spires of stone. their shadows represented something vague for agrippina.

refusing to let desperation or hunger make a theft of her dignity, she did was she was able for the mud smeared up to her flanks. but dabbing at the mess only worsened it, and now her shoulders too were stained in the muck. thin legs trembled and the knots of her spine ran in a neatly visible column.

but she was here and by all the gods who had freed her, agrippina meant to make her start. the woman's call rang out into the stormy darkness, genteel despite her deepening fear.

his eyes fixed upon her. a fire cutting through shadow. terribly thin, but not so small in height as to be a wisp outright.

he approached with the footfall cadence of a man meant for this. he would not be surprised if her summons drew forth the lady or lord of this place, but for now it would be him. a budding huntsman come to see what the storm ushered to them.

what have you approached for?

his voice was not a jab, but nor was he inclined to charitable efforts. from here he could tell she might need it, though. he could have ran a paw over her spine and felt every notch just beneath the surface.

agrippina hated to throw herself onto this unmentioned charity. but when she saw the man, a gradient of darkness against the background of rainy air, she could not hide her relieved inhale.

shelter, came the voice rusted with disuse, cracked by seawater. ashamed, she shut her chartreuse eyes for a moment, reaching for anything to give strength.

a low bow, elegant despite the fact she had been denied a single foot set in her mother's natal court. that woman — she had not let agrippina exist, filling her mind with every iota of royal education that she herself had once enjoyed.

i can offer nothing. but i will do — anything. she did not know the color of his eyes; her own were for the muddy earth and the numbing sensation of her paws covered in filth that might never wash away.

she had nothing, but offered them anything.

he felt a wariness of her wellbeing. it was instinct, he supposed, to lay down such a heavy claim when one danced upon their own bones. it was not his call, but he assessed this all with a heaviness that might have made one think it was.

would Matriarca @Reyna wish for this one?

that is for the court of La Muerte to decide.

yet maybe there was some shine of charity within him. the yearn to do good by this woman who clearly struggled.

tell me what you might have skills for when you are not so frail. it would not do either of them good to hide her condition, would it? or if she was always so cursed by boniness then perhaps she would clip his tongue. it will sound more convincing than the beggar’s offer of anything.

he was correct, of course, but it burnt her like a brand to have so much nothing brandished before her eyes. "i speak three languages and am acquainted with plants, domne." poisons. two, in specific. "i am no stranger to hunting smaller things, nor to fishing, nor to scouting terrain, nor to guardianship."

all these she had been upon that forgotten little island; student, gardener, fisherfolk, huntingwolf, sentinel. all these she had been with her mother, just the two of them among the unfortunate rock and unyielding cold fields of that ugly isle she had memorized before she was a year old.

knowing he was not the ruler here gave agrippina pause and despite the grime she straightened. "please. i will see your nobles now," she tried, using in her mother's voice the bit of strength she had maintained all this way. he spoke of beggars and a power above himself. had not she lived beneath such a yoke all her life?

tag for reference and lols

a howl reaches her ears. sheltered away within the safety of her palace, reyna interrupts @Paloma mid-conversation to investigate.

the freshest of the newbloods had already reached the straggler (the joys of guardsmen), and from her height she observes the woman. reddish gold, quite puny. her brow twitches. preparing to toss her along her dove's way, reyna descends down to meet the commoners, a smile that never could reach her eyes plastered on her visage.

first she glanced towards karpos, to step aside as she took a closer look at the woman.
hello there.. what has brought you to my gates, little robin?
she gazed intensely into pools of bright green — this woman possessed the eyes of a snake.

pls skip him! can be PP'd by reyna as needed

domne she called him.

a eye looked closer upon her now and these things she spoke of. three languages was impressive. more than the standard one or two. as for plants? he imagined that as long as he was here, there would always be a need for it.

you will, were the last words he breathed to her before their highest noble was there. he stepped aside so that a proper encounter might begin again.

he was nothing more now than a sword and shield at standby.

comforted by one voice, addressed by another, agrippina offered a second bow. lower in the face of a thrumming power which electrified the air. at first she had not dared to glance up. she saw the pale shimmer of ethereal tresses in the earlymorn light and tried to steady limbs that had begun to shake.

then her eyes did raise, snared at once by the hue of the noblewoman's eyes, droplets of blood writhing in a crystal goblet of purest water.

i have come for mercy, agrippina breathed out, but this time it was far more humiliating. curling her paws against the velveteen grass beneath her claws, the wanderer sorted through what tattered fragments of her life she could offer. i am educated. but i am not too proud to do what is asked of me.

her blood! blue as that of the fine lady before her, but with no way to prove it.

and such things mattered so little. mattered nothing, not now.

the woman is far too small to stand guard. one gust of wind and she'd fly to the heavens. and her coat to fine to be marred by battle.

she asked for mercy. reyna would give it.
you will work as a handmaiden then — you are to answer to @Paloma for tending to those like karpos. she nods to the other newblood. the woman was still very much a stranger, and though her fledglings were larger and stronger now, they were still children. it's easy to write poetry of loyalty to bely the venom in the ink.

do you accept? the vampiress' tone gentled, giving room for some semblance of a choice.

paloma. karpos.

i accept, agrippina said without hesitation, bowing her head beneath the eyes of them both.

no pride. no pride. and maybe — maybe one day she would have the title denied for her life entire. for her mother's name to be remembered.

for now, she had a role.

thank you, domina. i will seek her out.

hovering, the words tasted sweetly bitter in her mouth.

the robin departs. reyna's eyes trail after her, but soon they turn to the man.

well done. her smile is his reward. keep an eye on her. she is not to leave camp without paloma or a guard. though i'm sure it will not be a problem.
reyna pulls away from the man briefly. you may rest now. @Klara can handle being alone.

last from me! <3

little robin.

accepted into the nest.

his own gaze will follow her too, but it is his ears that are for la matriarca now. her praise and smile are not lost on him. yet he knows that this is only the start of something.

yes, doña. to both of her instructions. he meant to excuse himself now and go settle in silence.