Dragoncrest Cliffs this maudlin moment

When he said her name—her true name—in that particular way, Verx made it miserably difficult for her to concentrate on his tumultuous tales. She weakly resisted the thrum of herself that answered his calling, low and longing. Instead, she clung to every single word that fell from those indolent lips with every ounce of constitution she could. ”If waging war is what calls to you... I will respect that, regardless. It isn’t hard to imagine ze appeal, I suppose—that feeling of triumph. Of victory. Of knowing you may protect and punish as you can. A thing of violent choreography, thalion nîn, but a dance nonetheless.” The wintry skayona thought, as she amended herself, that a familiar shadow had danced beneath the the waves of that sea-like gaze... but she couldn’t be sure, and nor would she intrude.

However, she did tip her head at the yearning in his tone, when he spoke of Trigeda, and then a bit less so when he brought up Drageda and heda. Same culture as the cliffs, but more... it was easy to picture him, melding with the ranks of the raw, brine-hewn warriors. And definitely not unwelcome. “I never would have guessed you are new, here, too. With how you present yourself, I’d have thought you to be with heda since... forever.” She smiled in return at him, still docile, ”There should be no one better to guard her. Ze faith you have for another is admirable,” and then fell quiet as it became her turn to contemplate her origins.

Tried to, as her thigh shivered at the faintest caress of his tail. She gave to him a mildly-chiding look from under heavy lashes. “Vercingetorix,” his name half-song, half-scold upon her tongue and leaving her in a shy breathe. She halted in place, lungs fluttering for air as every point on her skin flared with heat; as her chest constricted and her eyes went a bit bleary. With the stories he’d given her thus far, it wasn’t hard to imagine that he might have been some war-god, stormsent to earth to play at mortal for an eve.

All the same, she dared him to try something more, before her legs could tremble and give into weakeness. Aure fell into step once more, and hurried back into her thoughts. ”I come from ze north... very, very far north. To those who have lived alongside my haven, ze Teekons is our south; it is warm for us, you might say.” A pause, then, ”My brother and I were heirs, but it was more in ze sense of... presiding over our tenants, I suppose. Rhaesuial served as more of a neutral sanctuary than anything else—a place for congregations between ze rest of ze packs. We... were peaceful, and remained so, but... mm.” A soft sigh murmured from her lips. She would return to that mention of her own peace soon enough, but: ”We were... fragmented. Reclusive. We still gave travelers solace and safe passaged, but... Rhaesuial became hermetic, to some point, and Vonn and I'd needed to grow up early. Too early. But, then, how do you pick up ze threads of an old life?” Aure studied him once more, a shadow of her own flickering amidst her luminous eyes. 

If he wished to enter the labryinth of her mind, then she would not lead him astray... just as long as his frankness held her fast. Otherwise, she had no doubts that they would come to understanding another beyond longing and lust. ”What about you, and your childhood? Don’t tell me that you were drowned, too?” A quiet, wry laugh followed in the flare of dark humor; unusual, but not to her, despite how vulnerable it tended to make her.