[DND] [LcS] Πάμε να τα πάρουμε, Γιαννάκη, μαζί ! Αυτός...
#1
[+000]
Ooc: Birch Kaid | One Million Voices

She was here for Wayne, to shout his name in the race to come. Auger too, and she suspected Notch and Dynia were here too to cheer on their loved one. She was also here for the others, cheering and enjoying the festivity without prejudice.

Charcoal and parchment in hand, she was also here to attempt to document events as she had done for the Olympics within Casa. Sketches of Del Cenere filled with visiting packs abounded. Later on she would expand upon them and add splashes of color, something to add to her own archives, although of course, available for others to view if they wished.

Pontifex applauded at the name Birch Kaid politely, as she did with the others not known to her. The person coming to that name though... oh... they were not a stranger at all.

All of the air left her lungs as Pontifex's chest convulsed.

Her drawing was crushed in her numb fist.

First Alejandra, and now.... her.

From far away, her own voice came to her, piqued and high-pitched with youth,

"Tata!! Will you pick apples with me! Tata, I 'ave a present for you!"

Oh, how she hurt. The thunder from the horse's hooves may have been her heartbeat instead. A hummingbird's flight it was, wings touching the sky in millions of strokes. Among the crowd, intent as they were on the outcome, Pontifex's distress went unnoticed, a fact of which she was grateful for, and, in composing herself she found her charcoal to paper, and a note spewing from her fingers.

A location. A time. Nightfall would be best, when the dimness would disguise.

Pressed tightly, folded into insignificance, it was a barely there thing against her palm as she approached the first place winner, with exultation. Her hands found the familiar pale fingers, and pressed slyly, as her mouth worked words clear of their shared emotion,

"Congratulazions, zhat was a good zhow, Ms Birch."

Then Ponti was gone, lost to the crowd with only the scent of wildflowers to say she'd ever approached the winner at all, her little note delivered without a hitch.

****

Alone in her house, she could not resist pacing. Some part of her could not help but think she had acted too forwards, too openly. Critically, she viewed her own actions through her lens, judging what was a flawless trade-off. No longer was she a young girl, shaking at the thought of the things she must do.

Still, she paced until she annoyed even her own self, and then she resolutely sat in the chair by the wooden table.

Would she even show?

Would she pretend like nothing had happened at all? That would hurt the worst, she thought, and yet, it would be a relief too. In some small way. She was anxious at the prospect of seeing her tata again, but... who knew what Eyes were watching. The last thing she wanted was for the woman to get caught interacting with herself and punished for it. Who knew what the Thistle Kingdom would do to a member conspiring with an Exiled Daughter.

Biting her lip, her fingers tapped impatiently at the simple tablecloth, the tap of it muffled by fabric. Night was beginning to fall, it wouldn't be long now, if it was to happen at all.



#2
(+615)
Optime | Del Cenere Gang (Charmingtown) | Dated: August 24th

Related to [DCG+] Lancaster Stockshow 2021.

Kamari’s scent is disguised.
Winning the barrel racing competition had been rather unexpected, however, perhaps the most unexpected thing to happen though, had been when she’d turned in time to come face-to-chest with someone she thought she’d never see again. She’d blinked once in surprise, but otherwise revealed nothing about her thoughts of the young woman that congratulated her on her win.

They shook hands, and when Kamari felt something press into her palm, she played it off with the deceptive mastery she was known for. “My horse did all of the work,” she modestly replied, dipping her maw appreciatively all the same. Their hands parted, and her attention shifted away as someone else approached her. A quick adjustment of her bracers had the note disappearing without a single witness to notice the secretive exchange.



Kamari had snuck out once darkness had started to rapidly fall, using the best of her abilities to slip about the dark town unseen. She’d donned her cloak to help mask her figure, and had kept to the darkest of shadows as she avoided other Luperci, Del Ceneren and guest alike. While not overly familiar with the layout of Charmingtown, the instructions on the note had been easy enough to follow. She’d snaked her way around the various cabins and towering pines, through overgrown shrubs and other pieces of cover. Her trail was winding, confusing, to ensure that, even for the small section of territory that the town encompassed, none would be able to follow her.

The fact that she had chosen to go at all had been a risk.

By the time she’d arrived at the location, darkness had engulfed the coyote-run town. Kamari scoped out the place first, sniffing and searching for any signs or places where an onlooker might spy something amiss. She found nothing though; no signs of deceit, no signs of distress, no signs that she should be ready to withdraw the hidden knife in the small of her back. The only thing she found was the familiar scent of a flower too innocent and pure for the thorns and thistle of the garden it had been grown in.

Her approach was deathly silent, and little more than a hair-raising shadow zipping out of the corner of one’s eye. She made her way to the backdoor of the residence, slipping inside with hardly a sound. Her tall ears listened, searched, until she heard the faint, muffled drum of fingers against a table further in. From the shadows, she departed.

“That sleight of hand was commendable earlier,” She greeted softly, her cornflower blue eyes staring searchingly at the back of the grown woman before her. “<You’re not in trouble though, are you, Pontifex?>” She asked in French.

It had been over a year since she’d seen the daughter of ex-Ambassador Helena. She and her mother had disappeared on their way to Portland the summer prior, and the trail had gone cold soon after. In the beginning, she had searched, wondered, and considered the possibilities of what had happened. After a while though, Kamari had written the sweet Salsolan girl off for dead. It was easier that way, for, being dead meant that no one could hurt her, not an Outsider…not even Salsola. The reminder and similarities to Victoire’s unexplained disappearance had not escaped her.

However, to find Pontifex, after all that time, in a pack that had once stemmed from Salsola’s enemy?

Before they spoke on anything else, Kamari wanted to ensure that Pontifex was there freely, willingly, happily, and that she didn’t have to wet her blade with someone’s throat.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
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Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi


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