that's the last song you'll ever sing

athras

POSTED: Wed Oct 23, 2019 5:14 am

Word Count → 2+ :: ooc

Despite the fact Ramsey could hardly walk straight, let alone swim, he seemed determined to dive headlong into the, albeit shallow, river that meandered through the gardens. It left Saga unable to relax and ultimately she'd sought out Elijah and foisted the boy upon the gentle defender, who'd been sitting by the chicken coop, sketching its occupants in delicate charcoal. It turned out that the boy was equally captivated by the poultry. Despite that fact he seemed more interested in chasing them rather than watching them, it seemed that they were more of a draw than the river.

She returned to the garden's herself. They were seemingly overgrown but in a somewhat organised fashion, various groups of herbs and flowers separated into what the Ursarchon assumed were groups of similar types. It was a far cry from the overgrown mess that were the Tuscany Gardens. The Vale's gardens had evidently once been more ornamental than anything else judging by the crumbling statues and grimy fountains. With some effort, she mused, it wouldn't bee too difficult to make it look presentable, perhaps even more so than the Cavalier's organised chaos.

Saga made a mental note to see about fixing up the gardens in future.

Saga D'Angelo
Mistfell Vale
Ursarchon
User avatar
Vida
Luperci

fortitude
ursa major

POSTED: Wed Nov 13, 2019 3:56 pm

[371] • I imagine this occurs after the leader meeting, but before the Ball. So, mid-afternoonish?

The gentle rustling of russet cloth was the only sound that betrayed an otherwise silent step. It was natural that Athras, son of druids found himself in the Cavalieri gardens. Drawn by the scent of varied herbs, their stalks moist and shriveling after the death of summer he identified every one he passed. It was a trait of Clan Taur to know the names of flora and the basics of their use and he carried this knowledge forward into their small, but thriving new kingdom. He was no healer, nor alchemist, but he could recognize the value of the seeds the knights had sown. Cream fingers trailed upon leaves, gentle as a kiss, a blessing...or curse. But his palm and fingers remained unspoiled, the absence of blood a fortunate sign.

The time of year vexed him, for had the Cavaliers held their meeting in the spring he might still scavenge a few seeds for New Caledonia (with or without their knowledge). He had no use for the bony stalks, shriveled blooms, and sour fruit. Had another opportunity not captured his interest, he might’ve frowned. How could he miss her? She was celestial, radiant- for her pelt reflected the heavenly bodies of the night sky. Saga her name was, he remembered for precisely this reason, the Ursachon of Mistfell Vale. An interesting title, an interesting pack, if solely for the benefits of trade.

“Oh, my.” The Regent said, “am I interrupting a moment of repose?” The dark decadence of his voice was heavy with the gravitas of his station, and his smile was an impish thing that offset it quite pleasantly. It invited her in, toying, teasing. He rounded the bend with grace, the length and litheness of his form accentuated by the long sweeping robes of russet-dyed wool. Over it he wore a dark leather vest with a low v-neck, its high collar lined in red fox fur, as were the sleeves of his robe. “Should I return to the shadows from whence I came…” The twinkle in his gemstone eyes betrayed the levity of his ask, “or might I request an audience?”

A beat, until he dropped the formality altogether, laughing conspiratorially. “Terribly dour these “Knights” don’t you think?”

Athras
New Caledonia
The Lord-Regent
User avatar
Stormie
Spotlight Soul Luperci Priest I, Diplomat I, Rogue I

POSTED: Sun Nov 17, 2019 8:47 am

Word Count → 2+ :: ooc

Her ears twitched as the man spoke, his approach masked by the thick, pungent scent of the floral inhabitants of the gardens. There was an immediate surge of adrenaline through her body before she reasoned that no danger was likely to come to her amongst her peers in the Fort. At least from anyone with a deep, handsome voice.

The Ursarchon turned around, her vibrant eyes falling upon the regal form of the Lord-Regent. He was handsome, for sure. Dark-coated, with rich, spiced red accents and piercing teal eyes. He had a lithe build, a doggish one that reminded Saga somewhat of her own father, rendered in ash and terracotta. Her face softened as she took him in, unable to hide her peaked interest.

Gesturing loosing for him to join her, she turned her sights towards the general direction of the Courthouse with a bemused smirk.

'Honrin tells me they keep all of their alcohol permanently holed up in some sort of old tavern.' Saga admittedly disparagingly. While the streets of Winterwynd didn't quite run like rivers, the Ursarchon would be damned if she ever turned the availability of such fine liquids into a monopoly.

'Athras?' she questioned, having remembered his name from the summit.

Saga D'Angelo
Mistfell Vale
Ursarchon
User avatar
Vida
Luperci

fortitude
ursa major

Casa di Cavalieri