wicked game

POSTED: Wed Jun 13, 2018 11:30 am

Her path had become a winding, tumultuous thing. Odalis picked her way through the trees carefully until she came upon a wide field of gold flecked grass. Here she paused beneath the open sky, her muzzle tilted back as she took in the wisps of cloud that passed overhead.

The voice had her skin instantly crawling.

"I didn't think I would see you again." Her voice was rife with anger, her expression narrowed to a careful point. When she had first approached him she had done so with gusto. She had expected a red smudged nose and eyes the color of clay... Instead she was met with nothing but glittering silver.

"Ciprian, Odalis slowed and began to gather her thoughts, her hands absently picking at the ruffles on her sleeve. "I thought you died."

There was a new scar high up on his cheek from where a wine filled goblet had found its mark, but otherwise he appeared unchanged - his long fingers shining with a collection of rings. They clicked together as he slid toward her, his tongue snaking its way across his crooked muzzle so that it shone.

"That's no way to greet an old comrade," He feigned gentle concern as he circled her, his nostrils flaring as she glared up at him. "You are no such thing Cipriano." She took a step toward him, challenging, "You are a coward."

He was laughing, a deep throated chuckle that wafted over the auburn waves of her hair.

She stepped away from him and he grabbed her arm, his hand tight like a vice.
Cour des Miracles
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Amanda

POSTED: Wed Jun 13, 2018 11:53 am

Thrice now Dove had found him in his dreams, each time standing in a field of flowers. She shrieked and fussed at him there in the way she used to, in the way she no longer could or would. Pilot fluttered about, cawing, warning of something coming, but nothing ever did. Thrice now she had found him and yelled at him for being lazy, or for daydreaming, or for some other third thing Salvador never listened to, because by then he had realized something was wrong, that she was no longer alive, and he woke up suddenly wherever it was he had settled down to rest.

His mind wandered often to other places—places where faces he knew roamed or used to. Cour des Miracles, where Dove wasn’t but Ask and Odalis were. Salsola, where Wretch and Neith both lived despite the reputation. A dozen other packs and cities and homesteads, with a dozen more names that had come and gone just as Dove had done. The freshness of the news always brought her back to occupy his mind, but soon enough she would be just another memory on a list with a few fleeting feelings attached.

This was nothing new. The recurring dreams, the guilt, the wondering what could have been. It was nothing new. It was why he never could stay in one place too long; comfort and ease of life meant an idle mind, and an idle mind meant a resurgence of memories that needed not be revisited.

So he wandered, as he always did. He brushed himself off from under the tree and walked from Inferni, to put his body and mind to work. They needed food, he needed distraction. For how much longer could he stand it?

What he found, however, was the telling (and all-too-familiar) scent of the Court not leagues from the Inferni borderline, and at the other end of it one endearing yet impossible young woman and a friend. Didn’t she ever stay home?

Friend. Perhaps not a friend. She glared worse than she had ever looked upon Salvador when he rightly deserved it. He’d seen it all before. Sally didn’t think, but acted—a routine he had performed a handful of times before.

“Odalis!” he exclaimed the moment he watched the stranger take her arm, and he quickened his pace and grinned as if to be reunited with an old friend. Sally threw his arms around her in a suffocating but successful embrace meant to put himself between and make space. “You made it. Hope the trip was all right—I would have gone to meet you, but my back and all...”

He parted, and only then looked to Ciprian as if an afterthought. “Who’s this? Your servant?”

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Lin
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Eastern Realms