Sunspire Mountains he threw me on the needle bed, across my dress he laid

maybe @Orlaith ? :eyes:

Esme consumed most of Riley's mind these days.

Occasionally he spared a glancing thought to those of the Redsand keep, wondering if they had noticed his absence. Sometimes Donovan came to mind, and sometimes the silly little idiot that had dared challenge his worth. Sometimes when his mind wandered he thought of Orlaith and her coven of wordy, woodsy Gypsies. 

He wished them all a terrible, fiery death. (One exception: Esme) If none of them had come into his life he would not be here at the foot of the Sunspire, his wounds festering and fever spiking.

Rain fell in long sheets of grey while Riley was lost in thought. He hung under the protruding lip of chiseled stone, his body dry but feet splattered by rain. Distant thunder sounded overhead but Riley did not care -- not like there was much a storm could do to him that could make things any worse.

She didn't know where she ran to. There was just a direction, any direction away from the court. The remaining last words simply felt painful instead, the rage she had built up during simply was starting to drizzle out the more she talked, and the more she remained. There wasn't a day she thought to leave, but everything had built up. 

Some of it was Orlaith's fault, she realized it, but refrained from admitting. There was a cause and reason for it all, despite the rashness she took. It wasn't her fault! She was doing her duty! Defending the court, and.. Herself in the end. She wished so hard to be the Sovereign she thought to be, and wished so. She even asked so, only to be turned down.

It felt like.. No one recognized her worth.

And at the moment, she felt like she didn't recognize her own. If her Queen didn't even see it, was it.. Really there?

Fuck that!

There was so much doubt within, her heart pounded, just as the rain pounded her fur. There was only so much to feel, she held a bitterness, and rage upon her face. The thunder crackled behind as she strode forward, unsure what to do with herself.

A flare of white light snaked its way across the darkening sky, illuminating the shadowed lair Riley rested in. Illuminating briefly a strident, curious figure — which strode towards him on wings of fury.

Her scent was unmistakable, cleaving through heady scents of burning ozone and petrichor; Riley stiffened and pressed his back to the enclave, feeling like an animal trapped.

She would either come to the overhang for protection against the squalls, or she would press on — Riley fervently hoped it was the latter.

Another boom of lightning soared through the sky, and Orlaith looked up. A glare to the sky, but she couldn't move on with the type of weather drowning it out. She wanted to move away from the court as far as possible, across the mountain range and beyond. It was low on the ground, facing to the northern borders, if she walked that way, there would be a day to encounter Lumiya again.

She didn't want to see them and couldn't stomach the thought.

With reluctance, the flaming but drenched wolf went for cover. However, it looked like she chose wrong. Upon entrance and a slight shade from the rain, Orlaith rose an brow, "oh," she said, "it's you."

The patter of footsteps sounded down the corridor between bouts of rain. Riley's ears were turned ahead as he watched the scent give way to shadow, and shadow give way to the brilliant russet unmistakable as Orlaith's (sodden) pelt.

He was still frozen as she ducked under the overhang. Anyone else would have scuttled to some other dominion, but Riley was still processing the fact she had chosen here, which he erroneously concluded meant she had come here to chase him out again.

His fur was the only thing that moved, radiating out in little bristles. Instead of the usual sharp tongue, Riley got an oh, it's you -- it was spoken none too warmly, but he would take it over teeth.

Scowling as the rain came down in hissing sputters, Riley looked away (as was customary, any time they interacted). He loathed her, sure, but he was not so snake-like to lunge at her throat when she was seeking shelter.

If he had more than a few brain cells he might have given Orlaith some smarmy riposte; as it was he simply glowered and stared off into the murky distance, waiting for her to tell him it was time to move along.

Bitterly, "I'm in no mood to kick your ass. We aren't even really enemies anymore." Honestly as much as she disliked The Saints, now there wasn't anything to protect against them, or any reason to go after. They displeased her so, as she remembered Derg, Donovan, Dove, Renard, and Riley, but most of their more shameful antics, were played by the ear.

"Unless you do something idiotic to me," the flaming wolf said, a glare to him. However laid down, letting him have his space. She just wanted to wait till the rain was a bit better.

She wasn't a hero who would barge in them and demand a change. Now that she had nothing to really do with the court, she wasn't an enemy until they did something in particular. It never meant though, that they were friends to Orlaith. She didn't want to be with such devils.

As with all things Riley, it took ample time for him to register the complexity that was Orlaith's most recent revelation:
A. We're not enemies anymore
B. The bitterness in her tone.

He perused this information at his own pace, a furrow appearing on his brow as he tried to pick apart the nuances that was her tone. What did she mean? Had silver-tongued Donovan at last forged an alliance between them? Why would she sound so disappointed about that?

Of course, Riley had realized under no uncertain terms that he had made a poor impression of himself among the Faeries. He didn't give a flip, naturally -- but why the change in stance then?

Maybe she was lying. Riley glanced at her unsteadily, still fully aware of their proximity.

There was a lull of silence, nothing but the rain pitter-pattering above.

It seemed only the rain would speak between the two of them, but finally Riley stirred.

"What?"

"What?" He only replied in a confused sentence, and she wasn't sure what more did he want, "you want me to attack you?" If he really wanted to, Orlaith wouldn't mind beating his ass from the previous offense. However she really did not have energy to do so, as too much drama was happening upon this day. If preferred, would've avoided all the saints.. But she needed shelter.

"I'm not with Seelie Court anymore." the flaming wolf explained with a shrug. She was no longer a guard to idly attack them so, unless they provoke her.

Riley certainly did not want this landshark attacking him. He'd already done that once, no thanks on the encore. Instinctively he edged away, thoroughly uninterested in a repeat performance. Orlaith could cut him clean in two if she wished and he was all too aware of that.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to believe what she said. It prompted a second, quieter "What.." from the yearling, who stared blatantly at her face trying to measure any sort of deceit in her expression. Finding none he looked away, still not convinced. "Why?"

She rose a brow to his confusion. Was it that hard to believe? Well, Orlaith was definitely loyal to the fae-folk, and honestly there wasn't a thought she would ever leave. Destiny seemed to say otherwise. Her lips curled in a bit of anger, "I wasn't appreciated." She said, with full confidence on her statement.

"I wanted to be equal in power, and was denied." She didn't want to be in the political game, what she simply wanted was to lead them! To get the respect and power she needed, to have none say back otherwise! If they did talk back, it was an easy feat as she always did, knock them down so with a might, and make them respect her. It was hard maintain top guard, when only a few listen so. 

But she couldn't do that to the Queen itself. She wanted Lumiya to agree, and if she didn't see what Orlaith could provide, then why did the court deserve her? They didn't.

Riley listened to the amazon with a turned ear, skeptic but not entirely disbelieving. He himself had seen Orlaith's once-leader; it had taken him all of two seconds to come to the realization she was nothing but a pompous fuckwit. That impression did, unfairly, extend to the rest of the wolves of her coven -- for if they followed her, they must be like her. Right?

He knew a thing or two about not being appreciated. After a length of quiet, Riley spoke. "I wasn't appreciated either." He hadn't showed his face to the wolves in the redsand since that day Donovan had turned against him in front of the court of their enemies. Riley wasn't Machiavelli, but it didn't take a genius to realize that sort of division made a pack appear weak.

Riley suddenly grinned. "You could join Donovan, show your queen what it's like to work for someone who appreciates you. You're a girl, so he'll probably make you his right hand man -- well, woman -- if you let him fuck you a bit." Riley, who spoke straight and honestly most of the time, had no idea how uncouth and unacceptable this kind of proposition was. He just thought it was funny. All of the other women did it, so he couldn't imagine Orlaith would be against it too.

"If you aren't, you should do something about it." Just as she had. While the ending didn't come to what she wished, there wasn't regret. There was bitterness, anger and maybe sadness, but not regret. She left with the knowing that Orlaith was not appreciated as she should've been, and in the end, instead of giving a suitable title, the Queen would rather see her gone. Then so be it.

"No thanks, i'm not some-kind of slut," that information definitely changed her perspective on the females of the saints. Was that small doe-like woman just one of his? Same with that large white woman, so she was just a mistress, instead of a grand warrior she could be? What a joke, Orlaith laughed at, "you're group has done too much for me to respect."

She wasn't aware of the rapes he has commited, or specific heinous crimes. Though Lumiya told her about his attacks, and Stryx on how his woman ripped anothers throats out. There was also a cocky attitude that she did not like- as the flaming wolf had her own, so someone matching with hers, would be a personality clash.

"Plus you're all kind of assholes, so that's a hard pass."

Riley digested Orlaith's suggestion with a heavy expression. Things were not so easy as just do -- however, he had yet to return to Redsands, so there was that. He wondered if any of the Saints had even cared -- or if he was just another cog in an endless wheel, crushed underfoot by those stronger, smarter, and better than him.

He didn't know how to take Orlaith's second piece of information; Riley genuinely knew very little when it came to mature subjects. He knew what his body told him to do, and he knew too that Esme sparked in him a very real kind of interest that set his heart up and his stomach down with fluttering, but he didn't know anything about whether it was good or bad he felt that way. And he certainly didn't understand why it would be bad, if anyone chased those feelings. Slut was not necessarily something he knew -- not yet, anyway.

It had just seemed the natural order of things, so Riley assumed it was normal elsewhere too. He left no comment about 'his group', because he still steadfastly held onto the idea he was not defined by his company. Being called an asshole, however, had Riley's uneven gaze lift.

He looked at Orlaith for a long time. He was thinking, and while he did so his gaze traveled the hardness of her features; the way fire seemed to creep from the bridge of her strong muzzle to her ears; how white so cleanly spread along her cheeks and throat. How her shoulders were doused in a smoky darkness, extinuguishing the flames that licked along her backside.

At last he spoke, his response moreso a direct observation than an accusal. "Well, so are you." Was being an asshole a bad thing? So far, Riley had only met assholes in his life. There were barbaric assholes (Donovan) and there were bitter assholes (Indra). There were delusional assholes (all of the Faeries, especially their queen), there were cruel assholes (Laurel), and there were indifferent, selfish assholes (like Easthollow) who had let him and his ilk suffer. The world was full of assholes - why was Orlaith any different?

"Well, suppose I am." She didn't deny it, knowing full-well that many found her overbearing. Though she firmly believed it was simply for their best interest, especially when she shows that nature when it came to her guarding duties, "but only to other assholes." The simpliest of ways. She remembered Memory, one who yet to be accepted, acted arrogant and refused to listen to anyone else except the Queen.

Wasn't simply hot it worked, Orlaith thought. The Queen would be gone at days, what would he do? Laze the fuck around? Not on her watch. Same with others who simply tip-toed into the willows, pissed her off. Then the saints who caused a ruckus everywhere, bigger assholes. 

She only dishes out who deserves it.. Sometimes.

The flaming wolf refuses to admit to her temper.

Orlaith shouldered Riley's observation with grace, not even skipping a beat before she responded. Riley didn't marvel such composure. It was matter-of-fact; she was matter-of-fact. He suspected in many ways, they thought the same about many things -- even if they came from different (very different) directions. Supposing they were both assholes, or she was an asshole to another asshole -- it was linear enough it made sense to the yearling.

"Now what will you do, as a fresh loner?" Riley wondered aloud, training his offset eye on the phoenix.

Orlaith stretched her neck, a look to see when the rain would let up. However, it seemed to never, and she only could sigh. Truly seemed like an onimous sign, and despite being not-too spirtually touch, even she can see it seemed akin to a disaster falling. Though it happened during her time on requestion her reign as a higher ranking. 

"Dunno," she answered truthfully, feeling a bit more calm, "maybe find somewhere that deserves me. Maybe just throw my own rule. I think i'll be alone for a bit." There was so many thoughts thrown around, but all in the midst of her anger. Orlaith needed a bit to cool down, as her mind twirls with ideas.

Riley followed the woman's gaze outside.

A cheerless, ugly scene. Rain, pissing down from the heavens.

Riley preferred being dry and wondered if it rained like this back at the red keep.

He hoped so. He hoped it rained and flooded and carved them all out of their stupid red desert.

His attention shifted back to Orlaith; it was not often he subjected himself to deep thought, but now he did. "What is it you deserve?" Riley wondered. Such a strange expression -- yet it was pervasive in the thoughts and words of many. As if they were owed anything in this life -- as if someone measured the balance of give and take all these years -- as if there were some Higher Judgment, who decreed what was just and unjust, who deserved or didn't..

Riley thought it was all bullshit. You got what you took, and that was it.

"A place of respect." If she truly did wander to a new place, Orlaith would have to start from the bottom. She was born at the bottom within the old court, and naturally rose. She counted herself one of their best warriors, but even so, they still threw her out for the young and old. An unfortunate roll of fate. 

Lumiya knew of that, and let her in. She thought she proved herself by always greeting those at the borders, always defending it; but struggled to get some to simply listen, "I want to be a leader amongst warriors." How she always has been, a sovereign.

Orlaith painted enough of a picture of her past life that Riley could accurately guess she had never been a good fit for the court. How she had ended up there was a story for another timeline, if Riley was ever the type to ask -- but even now, he could see she was a phoenix among butterflies, and it was simply a matter of time before her fuse burned short.

He had limited empathy. It was not his nature, and she had not been entirely kind to him - but she was here now, so he did not disparage her or press his thumb deeper into any fresh wounds. He supposed that karma had a strange way of working; he had been brutally forced out of the fae's clade by this wolf, and now she found herself without a home.

A nicer wolf might have offered condolences. A smarter wolf would have sneered at the enticing irony. Riley simply accepted it as what it was: the way the world worked. One way you were riding to the top, and the next day you were at a new low.

"Aren't warriors bad?" Riley suddenly asked, realizing he had very little perspective on this matter. Every warrior he had met had been cruel or malicious. She had hated the Saints, and that was comprised almost solely of warriors (some sluts too, to use Orlaith's verbiage). "I have never met a kind one." Riley remarked, a bitterness in his mouth.

"Warriors come in a variety of terms," she waved him off, "knights, guards, mercenaries; they're fighters." Each pack had their group of warriors, but they always held different names, but same routines. Protecting the pack, escorting, and simply being the bulk. She had ambition to be the leader of that, but as the court was all-too friendly, they didn't really have a rank such as that. 

She wanted one, however, and since there wasn't, the best she could do was become a Queen.

"Some are shitty, like the saints. I prefer one's with better morals," Orlaith said with a grin, mometarily forgetting that Riley has done a few things outside of what she particulary likes, and as well that he was a saint. He was becoming a nice distraction to her bitterness.

thank u for the kudos <3

Riley had only met one kind of warrior, so he was reserved in believing Orlaith that they came in all stripes.

Did it matter? They hurt people; didn't matter if it was a little, it didn't matter if it was a lot. It was all the same.

Didn't matter whose name they did it in, didn't matter if they believed they were right. Riley cast his gaze out into the dour mix of grey skies and misty rain. He intelligently kept his first response to himself, a surprising move, but he did not let Orlatih miss out on his misgivings either.

"You don't know the Saints." Riley reiterated, this time feeling a brush of annoyance for the fiery woman's insistence they were all terrible.

He had already tried -- and failed -- to grasp this thread. To push through that they were not all evil, and that not all of them (least of all him!) could be defined by their leader's actions.

Finally, circumstance might have thrown him the rope he was so desperately looking for. There was a long interval before Riley spoke, fixing the spitfire with a level gaze. "You are not defined by that woman you called a queen. There were things she did, that you did not agree with. So you are here now." Riley's observations were delivered dryly, despite how tired he was of hearing about how shitty the Saints were. "You could say you are separate from her and how she behaves or acts. She is not a reflection on you." Would it work this time? Had he finally grasped enough of a mastery over talking that he was able to convey his thoughts to the firebird? Really, only time would tell -- but Riley searched her earnestly for a response. "You do not know the Saints. You never bothered to know me. There are dozens of us, but you only judged us by one wolf. How is that fair?"

She raised a brow to his words. He was right, she didn't know the saints. She only knew them by words, and personal interactions. Stories coming from others, and that enough, inspired hatred against them. She didn't enjoy how they attacked others, and clawed a womans throat, and all came to the point, multiple packs had driven them out. Though Orlaith never saw the actions in person.

"You're right, I don't know you," she doesn't know his story, but there was always a factor why she didn't bother, "but you follow a man whose morals aren't don't align with most. Why should I listen to those who follow him, on such a wicked man?" It was why she always saw them all the same.

It was why she bunched them all to one group. If they didn't believe in what he did, what use was there into following him? Why follow such a cruel man, with that witch she heard of before. She didn't know the name of his 'mate,' to what Orlaith assumed, by the two caused chaos amongst the coast; she wandered why would anyone follow him.

"You'll follow his chaos." Honestly at this point, the flaming wolf would be snapping the answers back, but she calmed to such a mellowed-state.. Politics, were no longer involved into her. She would never join with the saints, or really befriend those who are with them, but now she has no particulary reason to attack until otherwise.

Just a bit of peace.

Riley: #AllWarriorsAreEvil
Also Riley: #NotAllSaints

He missed the flawed logic of his argument, instead focusing on Orlaith's response. When the spitfire conceded he might be right, or partially so, it came as a surprise to the yearling. He inhaled in frustration, however, as Orlaith pressed on -- detailing that Donovan was wicked, and Riley was a pawn in his chaos.

First of all -- Riley disliked the suggestion he was a mindless pawn more than he disliked being lumped in with #AllSaints. He outright huffed, suppressing the urge to bristle in response. "What has he done!" Riley finally exclaimed, feeling hot air brush his cheeks. "You keep telling me about how evil he is, but I still have never seen it. He took me in and fed me." As if there was only one side of Donovan. As if he were not capable of all Orlaith accused and more.. Riley shifted uncomfortably, fully aware there was a side of Donovan he was not aware of.

No doubt, Riley was angry with Donovan for how the man had handled him that day in front of the court. But he was not so blindly stupid as to follow the words of a stranger, and strike the hand that had fed him.

If her brow rose any higher it'd break, "do you not know how Kaistleoki, Yuelong, Seelie Court and Reneian Empire all came together to banish them from a nearby area right?" It'd be one thing if it was a singular pack, trying to chase out a near-forming group. However seeing as multiple wolves came together, to dominate the evil.. She didn't know what to say to the crocodilian man.

"Anywhere else would've fed you, shit, came to the court we'd probably get a long better," Orlaith fully admitted, if he wasn't part of the saints (finally remembering), she'd probably enjoy his banter more. Especially how he produced himself, a boy who gave no care to anyone elses thoughts, "he may be going to war with Seelie Court, possibly their allies. You know how many that includes? How many packs do you think find him cruel and wicked?" She wasn't alone on the thoughtline. There was so many disastified by his reign, that they all wanted to chase him out. She still found it simply foolish he moved so close to Yuelong's allies.

"I know nothing." Riley responded sourly, his anzac gold gaze on the ground in resentment. It was less a confession and more a stated point -- that he was ignorant of all of that unsavory business, had never been part of that unsavory business, and damn sure resented being lumped in with all that chaos-causing. Still, Riley had no answers for what it was Donovan had done. If only he knew the half of it: he might have been uncomfortable by Nemisis being downright executed, but if he knew Donovan's true colors about what he did to women -- it would have been enough then and there for him to denounce the queenskiller entirely.

He didn't know anything either, about a Castle pack or Youlong or some Reed empire; these were distant players in Riley's game, therefore their significance was rather low. If she had mentioned Easthollow or Ursus or some other pack, it might have clicked that this was a very serious, very real threat to his interests in remaining among the living.

"I have caused no chaos." Riley inserted, still feeling his knickers in a knot over that comment. He hadn't gone out of his way to hurt her, despite the wound that was still fresh on his side. Did that not point to some worth on his behalf, that he was not a beast bent on revenge or cruelty?