Respite . the dust settles

[SURNA .]

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When the dust had settled, blood soaked the marsh and the radioactive forest alike: who was there in the silence? In the awe of such battles, such rage and war and meaning who could glaze upon the ruins and see nothing but the ruble: face value?

someone not made of war : an innocent

Casualties laid across the bog, scraps of fur, scales and even missing teeth along the echos of great titans who befell from both sides. Sur'na was there, in the quiet of it all. Watched as the land breathed and mourned in equal value, a song of silence and continuation.

It would provoke something from the twisted kitten: something profound if such an emotion was on their own grasp. Alas they stood bare amung the graveyard. Watching the land and the sky in equal wonder. The open expression abject of any deeper thought, deeper meaning than the sun that rose above the treeline.

[wormwood.]

NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS — Sur'na. Aurum had not been around for their initial joining, far too caught up in allowing his wounds time to heal. During that period of his life, the lion had not even been leaving his home, hesitant to move and tear open old and deep scratches that had finally begun to mend themselves. Nowadays, he was once again injured, but not to such a serious extent. His injuries from the raid were relatively minor, their inadequate and pathetic numbers unable to get many attacks off before they were forced to flee.

The angel had been out, checking over every last corner of the territory to make sure that there was no trace of the Wanderers left, when he came across Sur'na. It was strange, to see such a child sitting alone, just taking everything in. It caused worry in Aurum, considering the bits of carnage that lingered around them. As he grew close, the former proxy spoke softly, "Hello there. I don't believe we've properly met. I'm Aurum... what is it that you're doing out here, little one?" The male desperately wanted to get them away from the faint scent of blood that still clung to the air. It was a stark reminder of what had gone on, and one that he hoped to leave behind. — OF THE MAN WHO WAS BORN AND DIED A KING.

[rhosmari]

AND IT'S HALF PAST THREE
[align=center]AND I GOT ANGEL WINGS

BUT A DEVIL'S GRIN

AND ONLY ONE CAN WIN

elsweyr %u2014 tanglewood %u2014 three years

Battles were battles. To the war torn king cheetah they were something that should be remembered for the sake of those that had not been able to return. For the mistakes that had been made to allow for an event to even take place. She was sure that someone would agree with her stance. Perhaps. But these days the carnage and blood did not phase her as much as it should have. Her heated form was there, watching from the shadows of trees. The glow of her figure easily noticed as she was not able to control what this was doing to her. It was something foreign and she hated the whispers she picked up at night. The taunting. Shaking her head she took a deep breath in and decided to approach. Nothing she wore today no paint or skulls. No beads to make her approach even ore noticable. She was stark naked in her figure and she head lifted up a bit.

Her eyes slipped to Aurum and the wondered about approaching him on her troubles. But her jaws did not move and instead she looked to the kitten. She too wondered why the child was there. "Um...her name is Elsweyr. She appreciates meeting her this day." It was all that she could manage right now as she slowly sat down, voice worn but gentle nonetheless.

[SURNA .]

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Gentle the voice bled between teeth, liquid venom spat into the air like a silence - it rang and she flinched accordingly. Not noticing either the lion of the cheetah's approach. Instead their gaze turned upwards now shot just a few inches down to the looming predators that found around them. Threat, the earth spoke to them in a way without words and they felt it along their own spine, a slight raise of the pale alabaster hair of the flame point kitten. so small - fragile little thing ( broken easily, like a doll cast aside. )

They felt it under their pelt, a ripple of power. Like their skin was made of water it shifted just slightly so, pale turned stark white rippled back into fur of coloration under the plunge of the moon light sky. Arurum's visage was tall, proud, and stank of blood - war not unlike the land around them. Blue eyes looked wide between the pair, a slight glow rising from the cheetah - spoken in odd tongues that were- fimiluar - if only vaguely.

"[sub]Sur'na[/sub]" Thier voice was so small, fright still edged it when they spoke, they looked closer at the pair scrutinizing gaze shifting to the wounds that still reflected both their forms. Understanding replacing that fear. It was... odd to be a part of a land so large- claimed by the clan- by Vinaigrette who's golden form was nothing more than an echo of thier memory now. These where of the same people, of their own people now- they guessed.

"The land will grow back, Aurum , Elsweyr." The soothed the pair in equal tones, noting the concern ( if misplacing it ) "Just as you will both heal from your injuries, the land grows stronger for it" It was important that they knew that, the bleeding need imploring in their gaze as they addressed both in turn. The land, the earth swelled in such silence after they spoke, a confirmation to Sur'na's words. No matter the harm, they would rebuild, grow stronger.

All of them.

[wormwood.]

NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS — Anxiety. It spread and tickled beneath Aurum's fur, his one eyed gaze taking in the temporary apprehension that spread through Sur'na. He felt a frown curl on his muzzle as soon as he saw the fur along their spine raise, not wanting to elicit such a reaction in the child. He hadn't meant to startle them, instead just wanting a chance to introduce himself to someone unfamiliar. Perhaps he should have made his approach more obvious, evidently. However, that was becoming difficult these days. He had become used to walking on eggshells, trying to avoid the prying gazes of the Wanderers. The lion desperately needed to remember that this was his home once again, and no longer were they under Stryker's wrongfully brought about rule. Just the reassurance in his mind caused him to sigh and relax, stepping back a little from Sur'na to allow them space to breathe. While he hadn't meant to scare the kitten, he didn't want to make things worse by encroaching further on their personal space. Wordlessly, he brushed his tail against Elsweyr, as if asking her to do the same.

Sur'na's voice was so small that Aurum nearly didn't hear her, but his pricked up ears helped out, causing him to rumble softly, "Sur'na... that's a very nice name you've got there." He would have to remember it, and silently add it to the ever-growing list of others he had to watch over during this difficult time. Her following words caused the angel to pause, a brief look of confusion spreading over his face. She sounded so wise, much older and more experienced than her appearance may have implied. Was she like him, some sort of divine beast that had been around for far longer than they knew? He wasn't sure, but he still found himself lowering his head, saying in a relaxed tone, "That's good to know... this place deserves a chance to rest, especially after all it has been through." They weren't out of the woods yet, considering Stryker was still out there, and they were still left without a leader, but they could figure those things out. For now, it was just a relief to have their home back, bloodied as it was. — OF THE MAN WHO WAS BORN AND DIED A KING.

[rhosmari]

Mmmm, the reaction was unexpected to the woman. The child held fear as if something told her to be afraid of them and when Aurum brushed his tail against her figure the woman flinched slightly. Her eyes turning to look up at him but then she simply took her own steps back. Listening and understanding. She did not want to make a move that would seem wrong in either of their eyes. Her tail swayed against the ground as she exhaled, smoke lifting from her muzzle before she pulled her ears back at the sight. Though her attention was taken by the words of the child and she felt a cold chill run down her spine. The land would heal and so would they. The words were supposed to hold some form of comfort but the woman only felt negative toward it. Aurum seemed to agree with what Sur'na had spoken.

But her own eyes seemed to intensity with their glow. Her tail snapping and coiling before she forced herself to still. Heat seemed to flare from her body and she felt venom in her mouth as she spoke. "The land will heal. But the people are hurt and some will always be damaged." There was a bitterness to her voice, a lack of understanding what was happening to her but she didn't aim it at the child for it was not their fault.

[SURNA .]

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Loss was something that the small point was fimiluar with. The aching hallowed center of them was still raw; mayhaps it was this that implored the small child to instill that confidence in others. it will pass. They knew that, but to see it in other's, the quiet somber set of their shoulders- it made them believe in those words all the more. A slight knot in their paw made the kitten wobble as they moved to stand up from where they sit among the destruction. ruin

"we have all been through so much" Sur'na agreed, their own tone echoing the same of that of the lion. They did their best to ignore the wings that rested along the shadows of their form- but now they couldn't ignore it. Pure white and dirtied. There was a slight cock in their head at the sight. As if looking long enough would give them the perception to simply know the facts: an angel and a reaper- the pair of them. Something inside of the kitten seemed to sit up, but a child could swat away instincts as easily as breathing- taking the fear as something when facing two strangers.

There was in the disquiet- the cheetah- elsweyr's voice holding with it a tone they wished they were not so fimiluar with. "Damage will heal, it will leave us different yes but-" Sur'na fumbled for words, their mouth stuttering over the meaning, the way to explain how a simple soul could morph when in dire need- evolve- into something new. There was nothing wrong with change. "Change, it should not be feared- you're- we're not-" The kitten hummed lowly, their own tail swaying in though as they turned fully to address the cheetah. "You're not wrong, for your scars. It makes you strong."

[Grimm]

[div style="margin: auto; background-image: linear-gradient(to top left, #575f70 50%, #68949f 50%); max-width: 475px; height: auto; padding: 2%; border: 1px #1d1d1d solid;"][div style="margin: auto; background-color: #1d1d1d; max-width: 475px; color: #fefefe; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; border: 1px #1d1d1d solid; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Peace and war.

Without accompanying twin one may not exist, entwined concepts fragile at a core broken with slight pressure. Yet falsehood both, a cycle built and maintained about loss, lie dressed within empty promises. The end impossible now, too deep blood-lust runs in veins grown dry, patrolled only by dust beneath earth that has grown equal in greed, built all about conflict.

Begun in earnest the celebration, their voices an echoing din chasing him forth until enveloped is all he is by darkness, thick and cool as it traces listless patterns against cream strands. Forgotten the cause, the usurper that had pillaged and ravaged, plucked from them in the night their commander. Without they were simply left with scattered pieces, discarded even as the remnants rotted, reclaimed by earth that cried in hollow notes he turned a deaf ear towards.

Apparent the voices that trees allowed to bounce from their trunks, however, even as the want to disregard grew, sought and taken the respite of solitude. Gentle visage twisted, contours marked beneath annoyance, brief held before it melted away. Soft replacement, ghost of a frown crowning lips, lower taken between and chewed upon. Uncertain still the future, even as nursed a delicate flame of home now that no longer were they held beneath serpentine monarch, horizon painted with promise.

Closer Salvia moved, about tail swaying as maintained a careful neutrality, slipping when realisation struck. Audience of two watched in silence display of supposed youth, odd the words tongue spun with ease, unbidden his own voice. "Scars mean you failed." Averted vision, refused to meet any, upward drift of paw. Gone they now, those breaks in fine strands about jaws and cheeks, still felt the manner teeth ground into flesh and sought his end. Unawares caught, the healing unimportant when the infliction meant he had been a fool. Eyes turned, regarded father. "How can being weak enough to be hurt make you strong."