The sun had long since set, welcoming the moon hanging high overhead and beneath the sleeping Sanctuary. However much like her mother – whether she’d ever admit it or not – sleep was difficult to come by. Avarice, instead slipped away from the walls of her bedroom after one of the house keepers had extinguished the last candle, bidding her good evening and a restful night. A summer cold had since claimed the frail maiden though never was she one to allow such little setbacks keep her at bay. She tuned out the concerns of Ira-Gula and how venturing out so far could have easily been the cause – if not – a major factor for the virus. 

In her evening robes and a single candle to light her path, Avarice ventured to the pasture where Envy contently grazed close by the stables.  A girlish congested sniffle came while she placed the candle carefully upon the stone bench bundling to sit. The Friesian Mare approached then, expectantly as if to know the maiden carried with her more than just the small sliver of firelight. “Oh, Envy, you silly girl.” Avarice chuffed, pink gaze sunken, dark circles since formed from beneath her eyes as she extended the carrot to the equine. “I suppose we will not be tending dance lessons tomorrow then?” she sighed, following another congested sniffle. Her voice cracked in a brief cough.

Avarice refused to admit to such an ailment. There had been far worse of course, and even then her stubborn nature often bested her. “Ira-Gula says a physician will be by in the morning but,” she reached gently for Evny’s broad snout before resting her head against ther friend. “I do not care for such company. I did stress that I was—I am fine.”

A rather loud and sudden meow then blurted out from behind her. Avarice turned abruptly, taken by surprise by the unexpected noise. Of course, she was no stranger to enigmatic events which in brief made her question if what she heard was true, or a cruel trick of her mind. “Oh, Osmanthus?” Weary pink eyes widened yet a glimmer of excitement managed to fester in her chest. Oh, he is not yours, silly girl, he belongs elsewhere. Lips curled inward as hands clasped together, briefly glancing back at Envy as if to search for some sort of acceptance from the Equine. The mare merely twitched an ear and turned to the stables. 

“What are you doing here so late here, little sir?” she asks, the evidence of congestion in her tone. She looked around, retrieving her candle as if it would pose some sort of aid against her already poor sight. “Have you traveled far? Are you hungry?”

!

 
He'd been away for a long while. Days perhaps, the curious feline had been absent his side. The little beast had never been a fan of bloodshed, an ill fitting position in office he held. The savagery of Dunmeath had begun the final stages of suppression. The dogs driven from their lands or dealt with accordingly. Mortals toiled in the fields, rebuilding the damages wrought by the war, or they were delivered to the other settlements. Their tasks were unclear, though he need not have an imagination to know what became or what would become of them.

He would keep the order of the newly claimed land with an iron fist - a necessary evil to avoid further casualty. However, such a cold mind set did not apply to Osmanthus, and his mentality was probably the better for it, he would decide. Using the bond between them, he would track his movements, following his surroundings to judge where it was the little imp was traveling to. Only when it became clear he had no intent on turning back in a timely manner had the warden finally settled upon the option of fetching him.

So it was that his footsteps had brought him to the edge of a small town, one nestled within the evergreens and far from the borders of the civilized world. A true discovery that left a bittersweet nuance within his mouth. A secret he would keep for the time being, having no true motive to expose the small slice of sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. Darkness had long since fallen upon his arrival, and the few faces still out were unapologetically bewildered at his sudden appearance. 'Simply looking for my cat,' he would assure the unease, his reasoning only seeming to stir further unrest. 'A pallid girl, small, delicate looking, with pink eyes. Could you tell me where to find her?' Many were disinclined to submit to his requests, but eventually, one would point him in the direction. Apparently her family was well to do in the community, and it was easy enough to gather the bearings based off the terse directions given.

His approach was announced by the subtle creak of leather and the rattle of Nef's bridle as he dismounted from the steed at the end of the drive leading to the estate. From there, he would pace by foot, finding the windows to be dark and empty, void of movement. It wasn't until he looked through Os's eyes again that he found them, and with a sigh he would round the corner, his vocals low so as to.avoid stirring a commotion. "Forgive me for showing up unannounced - and so late - I was simply looking for Osmanthus." His intonation belied his hint of annoyance, though he would bend into a polite bow of greeting. "I hope you've been keeping well."

Avarice didn’t know exactly what it was that cats ate. But from previous studies and learning of the wildlife, she knew them to be carnivorous perhaps – right? Maybe there was some leftover salmon filets she could give him? Pale curls tilted to the side as her head shifted idly. A blank expression read the maidens speckled features as she observed the feline with her own sense of curiosity. “We could pillage the kitchen together, Osmanthus if you’d like? I am certain there will be something to your liking in there.” Her expression softened as she lowered the candlelight once more. A girlish cough forced its way from her lungs nuzzling her face against the sleeve of her robes following a weary sniffle.

The clopping sound of distant hooves caught her attention once the feline was comfortably cradled in her arms. He was rather hefty but she wouldn’t dare share such an insult to this curious creature. Forgive me for showing up unannounced - and so late - I was simply looking for Osmanthus. A familiar face appearing ‘round the corner though she remained stilled with the feline in her arms as the candle extinguished by a passing breeze. A pale brow simply rose, following another congested sniffle; “Oh, good evening Theodred.” She cleared her throat in some fruitless effort to assure that she had most definitely kept well despite the evidence of her flushed cheeks.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised with a deliberate assumption that their paths might not cross again thinking it was mere coincidence they encountered one another in the beginning. “Ah,” she adjusted her hold of the cat to ensure not to stir the lazy beast. “He just arrived but he seems well.” she looked up to the man as if to search for some sort of reaction – confirmation perhaps. “I was going to offer him a salmon filet inside if it is to his liking.” She was still debating where the leftovers or extras would have been.

“Have you been keeping well too sir?” The question directed towards Theo. How long has he been searching for his feline friend? Social cues were difficult for her depict so the hint of annoyance was something she did not decipher and merely thought it a normalcy. What she did know was the prying eyes and loose lips of gossip of untrusting patrons further in the town. Very little were willing to even venture this far.

!

 
“Oh, good evening Theodred.” Her greeting bid him to dip his head once more. "Miss Avarice." Despite the airs she put on, the obvious ailment within her vocals was more than enough of a dead give away that she had certainly come down with something. The soft, stifled sniffles that further accented the brief quiet broken only by they and their immediate company of Os and Envy. The later of the duo hung limply within the young woman's arms, his weight and length draped contently within the manner she cradled him, only the sharp turn of his head and the chatter of his teeth in greeting showed interest in his bound partner's arrival. The end of his tail coiling and constricting comfortably. A traitor.

He regarded the feline coolly, knowing full well the little imp knew he had punished those under his regime for far less acts of betrayal. Desertion. That's what this was. All for what? The promise of salmon fillets? He couldn't believe his familiar would so easily be swayed away from his favor. In truth, it was nearly enough to wound him. He certainly wouldn't be getting any treats when they made it back to their current home. He had never wandered too far before, and thus he had not assumed this time would be any different until it was. The different variable was certainly her, but what, exactly, was it?

Cold, scrutinizing gaze would narrow upon her, sliding like the honed edge of a dagger over the whole of her countenance before dragging along the rest of her. All he could determine, in the end, was that she looked ill, a droll observation that had the curve of his index finger curling thoughtfully under his chin before he shot Os another accusatory look. Was it truly that she had better snacks? Was it salmon the little ingrate wanted? He would make him sick of salmon. “Ah,” she would serve to sever the irritancy he silently tried to convey to the oblivious feline. One who began to purr loudly, perhaps he had obtained the message after all, and this was his spiteful arrogance. “He just arrived but he seems well.” He sighed, his shoulders relaxing in somewhat of a defeat as one hand rose slightly, the other resting idly onto the pommel of his blade. "He's made quite the journey. I'll admit, I didn't think he had it in him."“I was going to offer him a salmon filet inside if it is to his liking.” Another side long glance he would give to the feline, one answered by the flick of his ears and the lap of his tongue across his lips as his toes flexed in anticipation.

“Have you been keeping well too sir?” He offered a nod. "Things have been going well, thought it would seem you've a bit of a cold since last we met. I do hope the worst is over?" The stiffness further left his person, though the tight lipped general still did not relinquish the hand near his hip, the comfort of his weapon seeming almost warm through the leather of his concealing glove. The other thoughtlessly pulled down the sleeve that had ridden up near the lip of the veil, ensuring the cuffs were tighter in his tidy habit. "Have you not visited a healer yet? A simple bit of magic should remedy such a small illness." He supposed that was one small convinience of his curse. No longer did he fall prey to the dreaded common cold.

To read the room was something Avarice did not do. Not with intentions of ill behavior but she simply couldn’t. The quiet ire that may or may not have been there towards the cat went unnoticed. Even if were able to become aware, she merely disregarded it as she often did when her day or evening was spent in town catching the occasional whisper of petty gossip. Ira-Gula’s frustration and genuine patience bled strongly whenever he rubbed his brow after a forward comment would fall from her lips. Avarice continued to comb her digits through the felines thick coat still; He’s made quite the journey. I’ll admit, I didn’t think he had it in him.

Cherry blossom gaze glanced down at Osmanthus for a moment, trailing an index finger through raven threads. “Oh, I suppose you should rest then too, hm?” She briefly turned her attention to the sleeping estate. Her mind a-buzz wondering what cats would like as a bed, if he would like the filet that she suggested. Oh, but Os wasn’t hers though and wouldn’t it be wrong to make such assumptions? “Ah, I’ve overstepped, Osmanthus you should seek permission from your companion first—” she sighed, following another sniffling inhale. Carefully she offered to set the ebony feline down at her bare feet. If Theodred hadn’t showed up so soon, however, they would have already been well on their way to the kitchen.

Things have been going well, thought it would seem you've a bit of a cold since last we met. I do hope the worst is over? Avarice simply shrugged; “I am fine.” she attempted to assure. It was her way of waving off the ailment. Have you not visited a healer yet? A simple bit of magic should remedy such a small illness. “Mm,” she shook her head in earnest. “Magic does not bode well with me,” she responded simply. “Perhaps it is because my father says I am an Omen, but” she shrugged once more. “My mother is a physician, but she’s disappeared since he died, Ira-Gula sent for a physician in the morning but I do not wish for their company.”

She spoke with such nonchalance, her hands clasped behind her, dismissive in her words. “If Osmanthus has journeyed far, then perhaps you have too, sir? Would you like to rest here for a while?”

!

 “Oh, I suppose you should rest then too, hm?” Ah, she would spoil the little lord. The thought rolled through his mind as if he didn't already pamper the beast. That was, in fact, what had made it such a surprise to him to find that the feline had made such a journey, and on what ideal was it? Had he followed her familiar scent? Or had he truly recalled the route and followed it from times past? It was a strange occurrence, as the general knew beyond doubt that he had never traversed this deeply into the mountain passes before. There had never been a need and - especially in recent days - his coven had ensured to claim almost the full extent of his time. The next big coup, the next segment of the machine called war to roll out over the Red Queen's abyssal enemies. Their conniving schemes were unending, and he held little faith that his position, or his life for that matter, would never end up on the chipping block of their concoctions.

Would they attempt such a treason?
He wondered.

“Ah, I’ve overstepped, Osmanthus you should seek permission from your companion first—” The faint quirk of a smile would ghost over his lips. Silver gaze would lance upon the cat as she allowed him to melt into a puddle at her feet as if he had no bones within his lanky body. "No need. I'm quite sure he would impose upon you either way." He would assure, kneeling slightly as he offered out his hand. Almost begrudgingly, Os would half heartedly rise before slinking towards him in effort to brush his cheek against the outstretched fingers. He would sigh then, running his fingers under his familiar's chin. "Besides, you've already offered him food. He's content to stay for at least awhile." His expression would slowly fade, melting away as if it had never been present to begin with as he once again rose to his full height.

His gaze would instead turn to her. “I am fine.” The insistence would be met with a bout of indifference. He had no reason to doubt her, and after all, it was her body. She should know it better than any other would the effects of the little affliction. It had been many a long year since he'd been ill himself, being robbed of mortality had seen to that, but last he recalled, a simple cold was not usually life threatening. "As you say." Her further objection, and the reason behind it, however did stir a small sluice of curiosity. “Magic does not bode well with me. Perhaps it is because my father says I am an Omen, but..” An omen? What had the man meant by that, he wondered. Had some great catastrophe occurred on the day of her birth? Perhaps her mother had died bringing her into the world, but all he could do was speculate until she would clarify. If she was willing. "An omen?" He would repeat, his head inclined faintly towards her. “My mother is a physician, but she’s disappeared since he died, Ira-Gula sent for a physician in the morning but I do not wish for their company.” Ah, so it was her father who perished, and maybe his interesting concept of superstition with him.

"Well, I know a good deal about omens, sayings, and baseless accusations. My homeland was rife with them. I know enough that I don't believe in them." Nothing had stood as a warning against his true misfortunes, nor any of his kinfolk's. Though he had had a sickening amount of them in his childhood and well into adulthood. The bastard child and second prince of his father's empire. A witch said to be his mother, for how else could one have dark hair if not a harlot to devils? Back in his youth and humanity, he would have snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. Especially once he left the isle of the Lumen empire and broadened his knowledge. Outside of his home, many people from many walks of life had had dark hair. Every color imaginable to be quite honest. The man who slaughtered them in their beds, however, had fair hair. Like starlight, he remembered. Like the silver he had been caged in until he swore obedience. Not dark hair. Not like the son of a witch.

“If Osmanthus has journeyed far, then perhaps you have too, sir? Would you like to rest here for a while?” He would give her a sidelong glance before turning to face her in full. A slight click of his tongue. "Forgive me, but I should not." His vocals were softer, a bit more quiet than before as he allowed his head to bow in slight apology. "I appreciate your offer, however."

…I’m quite sure he would impose upon you either way.  She watched with quiet curiosity as the feline took his time to approach Theodred Besides, you've already offered him food. He's content to stay for at least awhile. A passing evening breeze gently nudged against her, casually tossing her alabaster curls to sweep against her fair, freckled cheeks. “It is no imposition.” She assured quietly. Her gaze softening while tucking an alabaster curl behind a delicate ear. “There is plenty here to share – I could set up a comfortable space in my room should he ever visit for extended times.” Shortly after, a tickle caught her throat, leaving her in a brief coughing fit.

Avarice merely waved her hand as if to dismiss the momentary fit.  Disregarding her peculiar frailty. It was hard enough when maids fussed over her or Ira-Gula pressed with concern when they lingered in the streets for too long. More than once – several times she had made it clear she did not wish to be treated as though she were made of porcelain. She was fine she would put it. As you say.  A heavy sigh caused a subtle rise and fall of her chest.

The mention of magic was quickly subdued knowing it would be of little to no use. She side-lined the mentioning of her being accused of an omen. Her gaze fell quietly upon the man as the inquiry left his lips in a silent means of affirmation. Well, There seemed to be a pause. It was not the first time someone would make the attempt to disassemble this prejudice. I know a good deal about omens, sayings, and baseless accusations. My homeland was rife with them. I know enough that I don't believe in them.

Her features were as illegible as it often was. Her attention turned towards the pasture watching the leaves in the tree bustle with the evening breeze. “You are one of very few.” And by few it was more so her mother and Ira-Gula who may have had similar opinions. There was another pause as the evening sounds took over the conversing individuals. In his mentioning that this may have been the farthest Osmanthus traveled, concern festered when piecing together that Theodred too had traveled and suggested he take rest if he needed. However, he had respectfully decline. I appreciate your offer,

There was a strange tug twisting in her chest but did not question his reasoning and simply accepted it. “I respect your decision.”

!

Os curled around his legs, and he would fold them in order to sit in the grass with the feline, something that pleased him immensely as he continued to swirl his path around him. It reminded him of days in his youth when animals were the only friends he had. When people stayed as far away from him as they could. His father would attempt to comfort him when he was naught but a boy. He would tell him that folk only kept their distance of him for he was royalty and commoners knew their places. The children were not allowed to play with him for fear of harming one of royal blood. As he grew, his knowing and the distance between he and others only became more apparent, like a chasm that he stood on one side of while everyone else remained on the other. Their eyes were cold as they stared at him. Another fit of coughing would overtake her. Though she merely waved her hand in dismissal of it, his stare would find her delicate facade. "You said your mother was a physician, would you like me to find her for you?" He offered. Though many things could have befallen the woman, he felt certain through the multitudes of connections he wielded, he could most likely find at least a trace of her. He also knew there was little better than the comfort of a parent. Time could not eradicate the fond and few remembrances he had of his beloved mother. They were rare, but he cherished them, the only thing that distorted them being the plague of a very youthful mind unable to clearly process what would become such precious recollections. “You are one of very few.” She would mention in retort to his claim of omens. He nodded in agreeance. "One whisper is enough to begin the ripples." A claim known all too well. Though a part of him was grateful for such an upbringing. It made it all too easy now to ignore those that eventually grew into waves. He did not deal in rumors and half truths, only fact held his ear. Opinions could always be swayed, impressions that others cultivated against their neighbors afflicted by emotion both negative and positive. Killers oft went undetected because of such things. No one finds them odd because their public mask was air tight. “I respect your decision.” He would give her a slight nod. He felt strongly as if he shouldn't be here. After all, the more he knew, the more damage he could potentially pose to those who thrived here. A small, bustling town. All mortal. She knew not what she asked, even so innocently. "Should he become too much of a bother, merely ask him for me, and I will come take him home."

Jahi - imagine the eyes are silver pls until i get home to change them uwu

Growling whispers that gnawed through her ears – unheard by any other, told her his rejection was because of her unpleasant air. She unsuitable company. He merely lingered because of the feline companion of his had wandered so far. Avarice swallowed in the silent struggle to dismiss the cruel hissing torment. You said your mother was a physician, would you like me to find her for you? They vanished in a fizzling pop, replaced with the inquiry from the knight as cherry blossom pink gaze lifted from the soils, meeting the sharp silver ones. “No, that is alright.” She regarded him with bashful hinted demure. “My mother is –… mm…” delicate digits swept up under her chin with thoughtful inclination as she tried to find the best way to describe the fragile state of the ghost witch. “..Hm.. the death of my father, she has not coped well with it.” Her arms fell at her sides before hands clasped behind her back, gaze lifting to the slight overcast of the starry sky. “Her state is a delicate one, I wish not to fracture mending wounds so to speak.” She sniffled again from the congestion, clearing her throat from any phlegm forming. There was more to the matter of disrupting her mother. Being cursed with lycanthropy, there was turmoil to which Avarice did not wish to imbued. It was better this way – to keep what little peace that managed to surface, if at all despite the estranged madness that too plagued the young girls mind. Avarice would argue she had better control over it, versus her mother who, more times than not would drive herself to such hysterics became unmanageable. She hadn’t realized she had brushed her fingertips along her collarbone – the very one that once upon a time had been snared between the claws of her disoriented mother. “She needn’t fret over a mere seasonal cold as is.” Poltergeist worked far too much and far too often, Avarice made it clear she did not wish to add to that theoretical plate. One whisper is enough to begin the ripples. An ivory curl swept against pallid freckled cheek, a chuffing breath escaped from her lips, agreeing with such truths she was all too familiar with. Should he become too much of a bother, merely ask him for me, and I will come take him home. “Oh,” she looked to the feline, her expression softening as she knelt to the soil, uncaring if it sullied her evening attire. It was merely just dirt and grass – after all. “I do not think he is capable of such.” she mused with rare hints of humor.

Jahi

“No, that is alright.” Her words would come as if he had disturbed her thoughts. Her sight unlatched from the ground between them to focus instead on him. He took note for the first time of how much more acute her vision seemed to be in comparison to the first time they had crossed paths. Perhaps the harshness of the sun was a blight to she as well. Her pallid complexion would undoubtedly sear quite easily beneath the ravenous glower. Perhaps given her albinism, it affected her gaze as well. As he rose back up from where he had crouched, Os was quick to trot back over towards his newest friend. A low chirp accented the rustle of his shiny hair - tresses many a woman would kill for. Though he could pick out where at least a few burrs had made their nests within the hang of his underbelly. “My mother is –… mm…” His sight anchored back to her. “..Hm.. the death of my father, she has not coped well with it.” Understanding colored his mercurial irises. Reptilian slits faintly searching her features for her own feelings of the matter, and yet he was met with nothing but the impasse of her blank mask. “Her state is a delicate one, I wish not to fracture mending wounds so to speak.” His posture would almost become a mirror to her own as he rested his chin against the backs of curled fingers, consideration furrowing his brow. "Forgive me. I suppose that was rather... insensitive of me to suggest." “She needn’t fret over a mere seasonal cold as is.” Again, he would offer a stiff, albeit not curt, nod. He had long distanced himself from such affairs. Long had it been since he had suffered the passing of a loved one, and perhaps it made him too cold to quite understand the mentality of the situation now. However, he had always witnessed those that he delivered such fell news to to fall upon the support of their families. To grieve together within the doorway as he turned his back to them and walked away. Not everyone was the same, of course, but in this manner many conformed. "Oh," it was her turn now to kneel to the little lordling, and he would rise in an effort to press his whiskered cheeks into the plush of her palm, “I do not think he is capable of such.” With that, he could barely escape the faint sense of mirth that filtered across his countenance. "There are many things he is capable of. Hunting may not be one of them, but he has many.... talents aside from that." He would adjust the cuffs of his shirt, pulling the lengthy sleeves down as his attention snared onto the distant horizon and its growing illumination. No longer the soft silver of moonlight, but the growing intensity of the rising sun. He would glower at it for a lengthy time before his lips would part, his intonation slower, almost abysmal as he hesitantly spoke, "If the invitation is still open, perhaps I will rest awhile here." His hand would lower, seemingly satisfied with the placement of his garments and the height of his gloves. "I'm afraid the time escaped me as I followed him."

Jahi - imagine the eyes are silver pls until i get home to change them uwu