Cain had warned Amren to be careful. She appreciated the sentiment of the gesture, his concern, but she was a fallen death angel and more than capable of handling herself - especially against a group of weak monarchy-loving fools. They didn’t frighten her nor did they possess the means to eliminate her. She was all fire and fury and even if they did somehow succeed in, at the very least, injuring her, Cain would descend upon them like a dark shadow and make them pay. Besides, keeping the tiny woman cooped up was the opposite of a good idea. She needed to roam. To wander. She needed to ignite things with her flames and show the people of Griffingate that they would adopt better practices or else. Or else.

And so that was what she was doing presently, sauntering down the streets as if she owned them, fire dancing across her tanned skin. She had been ready to return to her quarters with the sound of a struggle beckoned her closer to the source, unwavering intrigue shining in pale silver eyes.  It didn’t take long for Amren to realize what exactly was transpiring and suddenly enraged, knew it was up to her to step in. She might have despised being seen as a mother by the entirety of Blackfall but this was the life of an actual child at stake and she could not so simply standby and let the violence continue.

At least not without contributing her own first.

[b][color=#414a4c]”Boys,” She greeted, her voice silky yet not succeeding in completely hiding the underlying edge of danger that laced it, [color=#414a4c]”Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” The inquiry was more of a joke than anything else. Amren was five foot zero and no more than one hundred and ten pounds. These men... they towered over her. It was no matter though, they had no idea the world of pain they were about to experience.

Cackling our of wicked delight, Amren sent a stream of fire in the direction of the first one. He screamed as the flames licked at his flesh and instantly fled, leaving those who remained to stare wide eyed at her. One of them, a braver soul, lunged for her but met her first. She was strong. Very strong. So strong that she kicked his legs out from under him and watched as he crumpled to the floor, hitting his head and rendering himself unconscious. The three that remained seemed to contemplate their options- engage in a fight with their new tyrant or run. It seemed like they chose the latter, disappearing into the shadows of the night.

Good.

Releasing a bit of a sigh, Amren would crouch down and study the child, her eyes widening only slightly. [color=#414a4c]”Cain?” She inquired quietly, fair disbelief lacing her words. This child, aside from the horns and the scales, was a spitting image of her Commander. Knowing now that she needed to at least protect the child, she attempted to lift him into her arms. [color=#414a4c]”All the bad men have gone away now. I’m taking you back home with me. You need proper clothes... and a few proper meals.” Was she being unnaturally tender? Yes. Did she care? No. Amren might be a being of malice and spite but she refused to leave a child to rot in the streets- especially one that looked so similarly to Cain.

It was indeed awkward for Amren to lift the boy. He was, after all, almost her size and just half of her weight, those wings of his making it difficult for her to find a position that would be comfortable for both of them. Him adjusting one of his wings helped though, and she found herself laughing, amused by the sight of them.

Amren was still rather perturbed by the similarities that the child shared with Cain - her Cain - but knew that interrogating someone in Davet’s condition would be cruel, even for her. Instead, she began to walk back to the home she had taken for herself, fingers absently running through the boy’s hair. Being this tender and even considerate of another being left her feeling nauseous, uncomfortable even, but she swallowed those feelings down. There was more to her than harsh words and a spitfire attitude. Cain knew that, probably, but nobody else did. Nobody but this boy, she supposed.

They just arrived on her doorstep when she finally decided to break the silence. She couldn’t refer to him as Cain forever, she needed to know his name. [b][color=#414a4c]”What’s your name, boy? I’m Amren. For the time being, I suppose I’m in charge here,” She supplied, opening her door and switching on a light. From there, she brought Davet into the dining room, pulling out a chair with her foot and gently placing him in it. Before they proceeded, he needed to eat. The poor thing looked like he was half starved- all skin and bones. [color=#414a4c]”Soup or rice or both?”

Davet... interesting.

Her fascination with the name was short lived though, exstinguished the moment he nearly slipped out of the chair. Did children normally do that? Did gravity and them simply not get along? Perplexed, Amren excused herself only to return with some rope, which she gently attempted to tie around his waist. As strange as it was to be doing so, she’d rather him not fall and hit his head, not before eating at least.

[b][color=#414a4c]”Soup and rice. I can do that,” She echoed, disappearing into the kitchen. After retrieving both soup and rice, she decided to pull some chicken out as well for the boy. Protein and carbs were the quickest way to fill him up and he was lucky that her fridge was stocked with mostly just that. Besides, she needed to eat too. This mortal body was easily fatigued and the fighting from earlier had left her starved.

A little while later, Amren emerged with fresh bread, soup, rice, and chicken, all piping hot and ready to be eaten. [color=#414a4c]”Here, have as much as you like, boy. After dinner, we’ll figure out some better clothes for you.” It was a good thing that she had stolen a couple of Cain’s t-shirts. Not to be sentimental or anything, of course not! She just... liked them... yeah that was it.