"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
The family meeting had been successful - many attended, new faces and old, and many came forward to serve Tephra to the best of their abilities. However, something lingered in the shadows, something he could not place as his muzzle had reached out for Amorette’s, and how she only returned the gesture with a cold, still stare of indifference. It hadn’t been something he was expecting, though the Overseer had been focused on not letting the steeliness of her expression distract him from the business at hand. But it hovered in the back of his mind as he returned that night back to his grotto, and even Tangerine could feel the tension that once was not there that now clings to every inch of his body.
Had something happened?
His night had been sleepless. Thoughts and possibilities play out in his mind - he thinks of Levi, of Bragi…
Little did the mahogany man know that the reason for Amorette’s silent gaze and expressionless face had been because of him. Had he any inkling, he would have found her much sooner than daybreak, where they were to meet and head towards the field and the forest, onward towards the great forest of Sylva.
She behaves in the very same manner she had at their gathering - polite, but indifferent and distant. The flutter of his blue wings at his sides shows his pensivity, and the furrowing of his brow gave him a brooding and worn look to his face. They walk in silence for the most part, as both are familiar with the stretch of travel that opens up before them, his lips pursing as he attempts to sort through his many thoughts.
Finally, and almost in exasperation, the stallion suddenly halts with a sharp snort and a pounding of a single foreleg into the soft ground of the forest. “What’s wrong?” he asks her blatantly, his eyes staring at her from beneath the darkness of his thick forelock. He is worried about what her answer might be, if she would even give him one, but the Amorette that stands before him is unlike herself, and he would do whatever is needed to set things right.
She had thought they were friends. The type of friends that build on one another, and to whom trust comes natural. That she easily trusts – or too easily if you would ask another – doesn’t have to do anything to do with trust between friends. It’s not simply meeting someone and focus on the good intentions, trust between friends is blind. Now Amorette is not so sure anymore.
It hurts, and thus the ebony woman is almost passive when they meet up. The more she closes herself off from him, the less he could hurt her. When Warrick had first asked her to accompany him she’d been excited, but now it is just awkward. Amore finds herself torn between her excitement and grief the Overseer’s lack of trust had caused her. The silent battle within her is enough for her to ignore the silent stretched between them as they march through the forest.
Rather surprising, she is blindly following his lead. Perhaps stupid, since he had shown he doesn’t trust her, it would be easy to say she couldn’t trust Warrick in return. Yet, she does. He might not trust her judgement, but that wouldn’t mean he meant to harm her, right? It’s somewhere in the middle of the said forest that he stops her.
Her dark eyes meet his blue ones without glancing away. A quick glance around had told her that there was nothing around them that caused him to stop, so he must finally have decided to address the matter. A little late, if you would ask Amorette. For a moment she just watches the navy and bay stallion, eyes narrowing for a second as she searches his face. There’s genuine worry, and a big black gap of the unknown. Which in return confuses the ebony woman.
”Do you even want me accompanying you?” Her question is just as blunt as his, and like him she’s afraid of the answer she might get. This wasn’t at all how she had imagined their trip, and yet, it was how things turned out. Amore cannot find enough rest to give him the opportunity to answer rather filling in for him because saying the words herself would hurt less than hearing them from him. ”Or was your proposal to go together just a sleek way of covering up that you don’t trust me on my own?”
He watches as the silent planes of her face give way to bitterness (she doesn’t look any less pretty, but the expression looks misplaced on her face) and his eyes dim. She releases herself into the air, her words stale and venomous as they spill from her dark lips. He is shocked, and it is seen by the way his brows raise, and how his head lifts slightly as if truly attempting to comprehend her words. Of course he wanted her to accompany him...isn’t that what they decided? He remains silent, however, knowing that she is not finished as she inhales once again. This time, when her words leave her mouth, he does not stay silent. He steps forward quickly and confidently, a quick flutter of his wings at his sides as he strides towards her, lips pulled into a deep frown while his ears flick back idly.
“Trust you? Have you given me reason not to?” He asks quickly and without thinking. It is fuel to the fire (whatever fire that has been stoked, and that now has loosed itself from her chest and out into the open), and though he is aware that the gentleness that normally accompanies him is for some reason missing, he only stares at her expectantly. Perhaps she is trying to confess something to him, or she holds a secret close to her heart that has yet to been told to the Overseer…
With a sharp snort he pulls back, curving his neck as his chin finds his chest. His eyes dart away from her, hooded and dark beneath his furrowed brow, and a single foreleg raises to stamp at the soft earth of the forest beneath their hooves. No, he tells himself. He knows Amorette, he trusts her. She would not hide anything from him, and with a twist of his head away from her, he decides that her anger is most likely well-placed, and that an accusing tone would not help. He inhales deeply, a shadow still over his eyes as he allows concern instead of anger to fill him, pressing his lips together thoughtfully.
“Why,” he begins quietly, through a jaw that is clenched tightly shut, “why would you say that?” He still is turned away from her, ears turned backwards to show his displeasure of their conversation, eyes staring into the path of the forest that would lead them to Sylva. He is hurt by her accusation, but a heaviness begins to fill his chest and he knows the familiar feeling - guilt begins to boil and grow, and he searches his mind for what he could have possibly done to let her think he suddenly did not find her capable of a diplomatic visit, or undeserving of his trust.
In any other situation she would have focussed on the better option without thinking twice. Naturally Amorette was too blind to see anything less than good, but her hurt feelings and brooding mood would even turn the most gentle soul sour. She simply couldn’t help it but to wonder if Warrick was playing a fool, pretend he didn’t remember what he had said. The other option was that he was too oblivious to notice, and that idea hurt the ebony woman even more.
Amore’s eyes search for anything that would give away the truth, but her gaze is not one of interest, but colder and more distant than what was normal for her. Her ears are turned back, her lips pressed together in a straight line, with not even a slightest curl of the smile she usually wears. When Warrick steps forward she doesn’t back away, but neither does she welcome him into her space.
Her head rises slightly as his words make her expression look even more sour and bittersweet she realises that Warrick does not have a clue at all. The flick of her tail is sharp; she is annoyed, upset and hurt, even a little angry with him too. Again he questions her. ”I haven’t,” she resolutely replies, with a quick shake of her dark head. And that’s exactly the problem, since the Overseer had proven himself twice to think otherwise.
His muscle show makes Amorette grimace. For a short moment her ears are pressed against her neck, and her head rises even more. Not that she’s ever a match to his height, but it doesn’t stop her from expressing that she objects to the way he is showing his frustration.
Her hurt and upset glare burns into his features. ”Why?” she repeats, retreating as if he has giving her a slap in the face. Physically he hadn’t touched a hair on her body, but verbally he just hit a homerun. On top of that, he makes her voice it out herself. ”Because why else would you insinuate that I brought that wretched vampyric bitch back into Tephra?” And he even had ignored her – and her hurt reply – afterwards.
He was oblivious - or was he truly? He thinks back to the last time he had felt anger swell in his chest, and immediately it had been Kolera and Kryptic’s faces that blossom into his mind. His face sours, remembering the quick anger that filled him and the spite that rushed from his lips - they had returned, and possibly Karaugh had followed them, bringing the demon woman back into Tephra, where his newly born daughter wanders as well as other kingdom residents. He had not been graceful (not like he normally is) in that moment when he had reflected on it, but he had told himself it had been with caution and concern that his remarks were made - not out of malice. But now he is forced to reflect again, to retrace his steps to that moment once more, and to look at himself in a way he refused to do so before. Out of ignorance he pretended that he had not offended her, that it had been his Overseer duty to proceed with caution and an overprotectiveness that she misinterpreted as cruel.
And now he looks even more the fool as she stands before him - almost dumbfounded at the way he brushes her off, as if he knew nothing of which she spoke of.
Not often does someone see the winged stallion at a loss (he cannot remember the last time he messed up, or was less than perfect), and he still refuses to meet her gaze. Even when the fire that resides within her spills out from her lips, smoldering and intense as it meets the air.
Because why else would you insinuate that I brought that wretched vampyric bitch back into Tephra?
He flinches back as if her words had marked him, breaking skin free from bone and muscle. He snorts sharply, eyes still staring off into the distance with a narrowed gaze. She is angry - fuming, even. And though he does not show it, he can feel the surge of defensiveness within him, begging for himself to explain why he had spoken that way to her, and to give her a reason as to why he had done so. But he has no reason - Karaugh had been his first real issue in Tephra that he had to deal with as Overseer, thus leaving him with a weakness for questioning more instead of trusting quickly, like he normally does.
“I am not the same man I once was, Amorette.” Now he turns to look at her, his eyes resilient beneath her glare. “Sometimes I am Warrick, but sometimes I am the Overseer.” He pauses. She must understand the difference - the man on the volcano is a different man than the one who is sworn to take care of each resident within their home. “I am quicker to question loyalties than I used to be. I have to - if I am not, I am afraid I will risk the safety of others merely because I am too gentle, too soft.”
His voice has changed. He had begun with the solid rumble of that when he addresses the crowd, but as he finishes, he is sullen and delicate, brow furrowing as his eyes fall downcast in ponderous thought. “One mistake - just one - and I will be at fault for whatever happens.” He is speaking more to himself now, his thoughts now spoken out loud. “I cannot afford a mistake because of naivety.
It’s not an excuse, though.”
Warrick’s eyes lift, and he looks at her with a gaze that pleads for understanding. “I am sorry I let my worry overcome what I already know is true - you are infinitely loyal, not only to Tephra, but to me as well. Not just to the Overseer, but Warrick.” His voice is contrite, laced with remorse and penitence. The anger is gone, and though the softness of his voice is familiar, something darker hangs at the edges of his eyes and the sharp features of his face.
She hates to see him flinch, but there is not a single part of her that thinks of taking back her words. If he was too blind to see it himself, it was up to her to tell him. Even if her words had been harder than necessary, but hey, it was Amorette’s good right to let him know how much his words had hurt her.
Turns he only hasn’t been oblivious, Warrick choses to stay oblivious even now. It is the least she had expected of him. Sure, it was already odd that he had been blind to his own words, and the hurt they had caused, but really? Did the bay and navy Overseer really tried to smooth talk his mistake? In Amore’s eyes that was exactly what it was, and through it he hadn’t shown himself as the leader she thought he was. And his words, his explanation, only make her think that even more. It shows in the way her ears press back and her lips thin into an even straighter line.
”Bullshit, Warrick, and you know it.” The words are out of her mouth before she even thought about what to say. He’d hit a sore line and apparently her sub consciousness thought he should know it. ”You are the Overseer and the Overseer is you, Warrick, you are both, not only one of them depending on what you feel like. And damn, are you saying that as Overseer you don’t trust my loyalty or judgement? I don’t know what is worse; that my friend doesn’t trust me, or that the leader who I pledged myself to, who I gave my all, does not.” It did hurt too, and right now, the ebony woman doesn’t know if anything he would say would make her feel better.
She is kind of ready to turn her back and walk away, to go back to Tephra, and leave Warrick to visit Sylva on her own. A shame, really, because Amorette was looking forward to their trip, but not like this. Her dark eyes meet his in a stare, ready to tell him she is off, when he speaks in a much gentler voice. More attempts of sweet talking, but there is more. It does seem he knows he has been in the wrong after all.
He pleads her to understand, but Amore doesn’t. It shows in her still tense posture, the way the corners of her lips tug down and the annoyed flick of her tail. Glancing away she shakes her head sharply, but then a soft sigh escapes past her dark lips.
When she looks back at Warrick there is only weariness in her eyes. ”Apology accepted” she offers him with a sad smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. Accepting his apology is all she can do, because she simply cannot get herself to understand. She doesn’t see him as two different entities, being Tephra’s Overseer isn’t some cloak Warrick could put on and shake off at will.
She glances away again, another deep sigh leaving her lips. Her heart aches, and it does convey to her eyes, though she doesn’t really dare to meet his gaze. ”Perhaps it’s better if you visit Sylva on your own..” she offers, though it is not what she wants. Yet, Amorette knows that heading to Sylva like this won’t do any good either. It is picking the less evil option.
She is not finished with him, however. His contrite words were not enough to quell the flame of anger that rises within her, and if anything, stokes it even more. He allows it, though. He allows her to spill forth her venom and her rage, until it is no more but a festering boil beneath her steady gaze. He had hurt her (more than he had initially realized, not knowing his words could be so sharp, so hurtful), and he felt that it is more than acceptable for her to be slow to finding forgiveness. She is so done, so over the situation itself, he can literally feel the frustration as she huffs at him, calling him out for his callousness towards her and his misplaced distrust.
Amorette flippantly accepts his apology (which had been contrite and deeply illuminating for himself), but with a thin press of his lips into a firm line, he knows that she has not forgiven him. Warrick’s tail flicks impatiently at his haunches, feathers of his wings rustling together as he adjusts them at his sides. Her words ring with truth and even his own sad gaze turns glassy with realization, though he knows that there is a part of this she cannot simply grasp. She doesn't know what it’s like - not truly - to hold the fate of a country within your hands, where the lines easily become blurred between diplomacy and the wage of war. Warrick has been trying his best to keep Tephra the sanctuary that he always has known it to be, but his protectiveness and worry seem to keep him paranoid, with a certain hardness that he has never had to deal with before. He cannot keep them safe if he is too naive, too trusting - he had expected Karaugh to sneakily follow her children back into the magma-filled lands, and though he is sorry that he had offended Amorette, he did not regret the assumption.
“I do trust you, Amorette.”
His voice is solid and unwavering, his gaze meeting hers beneath the furrow of his brow. She may not believe him, but he didn’t care. He would not lose sleep over her anger towards him now, especially when he has laid out his thoughts and feelings so plainly before her. If she deems his explanation and apologies unworthy, it is simply not up to him to worry over it. Perhaps she will realize soon - not today, of course, and maybe not tomorrow - that she continues to be one of the pivotal members of their home, and one that he looks to for confidence.
“I have been blinded by my position and I am sure it will happen in the future, until I learn the ways of an Overseer.” He pauses, partly because he wonders if she even cares to hear him anymore, and partly because he is worried anything he says will make things worse than it already is. “I did not mean to hurt you, though I understand if you still are now.” He turns to look past her, unable to keep eye contact, and looks on towards the golden trees of Sylva in the distance. Perhaps it would be better, seeing as she is still infuriated with him and his changed persona - something he could not help. The title of Overseer has changed him (and like Amorette said, Warrick is the Overseer, and the Overseer is Warrick), and he is starting the see the differences in his voice and demeanor that used to be dormant beneath his auburn skin.
“I will not force you, one way or another. The choice is yours, Amorette. I have said my piece and you have said yours. I still plan to visit Sylva, and I’d like to not go alone.” He actually would prefer to go back home now, to stand beneath the darkness of the volcano and stare into the stars (a thought he had not had in a very long time), but he knew his duty and would complete it - with or without Amorette, unfortunately.
Some sense of relief washes over her. She had not realised how she had supressed these feelings and how much they had been affecting her. The reality is as a slap in the face, one to wake her up, coloring her world less black-and-white; make her realise that there is a grey area in between. However, Amorette does not take her words back, not when she is glad to finally be able to speak them out loud.
He lets her rant, speak her mind and heart, and does not try to interrupt her. The frustration has made her eyes all teary again, but Amore refuses to let them flow. Her short rant had been loud – and thus ugly – enough to make her pant for breath a few times. Her endurance trained body is quick to catch the said breath. The short break needed to do so is enough for most heath to gradually flow away.
In the same pause his words fill the silence between them. It is another push in the right direction, he says that what she so desperately needs to hear, coming from his lips. It warms her heart to hear he still trusts her, he, as both Warrick ánd Overseer. A breath she didn’t know she has been holding escapes past her dark lips, and when she looks at him again her eyes show less anger and more relief, though it’s hard to completely forget about the hurt already.
When he breaks their gaze she steps forward. Slowly, both hesitant and tentative, she reaches out towards him, to offer him her muzzle in the familiar silent greeting they usually share. Suddenly she wants to be close to him, not because she longs for his affections as a lover, but in comfortable and friendly companionship. Oh yes, Amorette is still hurting, but was it worth their friendship? Later she would probably blame her hormones and the upcoming autumn. When she speaks, her voice is much softer. ”A leader is never done learning, but please, Warrick, don’t lose yourself in the process..” she murmurs, her muzzle lightly brushing his to ask him to meet her gaze. ”I do accept your apology, though I cannot say I fully understand yet. Perhaps in time.” She has not forgiven him either, but that was less hard to accomplish than to understand. All in due time.
”You’d like me to accompany you?” Yes, she needs to hear it from him, she needs to hear him confirm it. Not because she thinks he doesn’t want to, nor because she doesn’t trust him, but she simply needs to be sure she is not misunderstanding him. Not going alone meant he could take another with him too, after all. ”I still would like to go, if you accept my company?” And apology in return.
Amorette
Quand on n'a que l'amour.
@[Radar] <3
Blame the hormones and the emotions of reply to Levi for this 180 degree change XD.
Though the fire from their words is gone, the smoke still rises and spins, remnants of their conversation billowing them around them loosely, hanging over them like a distant haze. It is boilstering against him, soaking into his skin and clinging to each part of him, and he doubts that the feeling will soon be reprieved. He inhales deeply, though he feels like he cannot clear his head with a large enough breath, and exhales in a slow, rumbling sigh - it is one of contentment, for she has spilled her heartache to him and he has done the same, and though the two may be nowhere near to solving it, at least it is out in the open, and both parties were more than willing to overlook it for the sake of their friendship.
Amorette reaches out to touch him - the first physical sign of a mending friendship - and he does not shy away. She draws him back in with a single touch, pulling his gaze back to hers with the gentlest brush of her muzzle against his own, and he looks to her in desperation, nostrils flaring as they exchange breaths like they so often do. The gesture is comforting, despite the turmoil that lies just beneath his brilliant blue eyes. Had he already failed her? Already failed them?
A leader is never done learning, but please, do not lose yourself in the process.
Her voice is truth (when is it not?) and he looks to her with a knowing gaze, brows rising as a tiny hint of a smile twitches onto the corner of his lips. Ever the confidante, she touches the sharp lines of his cheek with the velveteen of her dark mouth, ushering him out of the shadow that has fallen across his face. She is wise beyond her years, he thinks to himself, returning the gesture by pensively brushing her forelock away from her smoldering eyes. He is losing himself, he knows - he is tossed about on the frantic sea that is his mind, and once, a very long time ago, he had an anchor of his own to keep him tethered. He snorts softly at the thought of the golden woman with diamond armor and pale feathered wings, and how he is about to stride into Sylva and see for himself that she no longer remains a part of his life, or Beqanna. Perhaps he needs a new anchor - or, rather, he already had one.
“Always be honest with me, Amorette. I am learning, and I need to know someone will be there to correct me.” His voice is a bit lighter now, though it is still trained with the weight of their previous conversation. He looks out towards Sylva, a deep breath leaving his lips. “I will always accept your company. Please come with me.”
Warrick
@[Amorette]
This is all over the place, lol <3
But we can start a new thread in Sylva?
The bump of her muzzle against his is gentle and short, but just as easy and quick like that the atmosphere around them brightens up. At least, that is how Amorette experiences it. More relief watches over her and when she pulls back, a smile lies on her lips.
A smile that is soon disappearing and makes place for a worried frown. Silently she watches Warrick, from the look in his blue eyes to the way he carries himself. If she was only able to read his mind, to know what had him so lost in thought. Lost. That was exactly how he looked, and suddenly Amorette is not so sure if he is okay. Every time she had asked Warrick how he was doing, she had never referred to the invisible cloak around his shoulders or the crown on top of his head. She should have. Amorette cannot imagine what it is like to carry such burden, but she should have tried for the sake of her close friend.
It is gone almost as quick at is had come. She welcome his touch, a playful glint in her own eyes as she watches him. However, as Warrick speaks, she knows it is serious, and not something to think of lightly. ”I’ll be there, Warrick, as long as you want me to. But I won’t promise to always be nice” she jests, yet, meaning her words at the same time. Amorette would just have to talk to him, instead of keeping things to herself.
She doesn’t need more invitation to accompany him to Sylva. And this time, she doesn’t linger behind, but falls in step next to the bay and navy Overseer, her head at the level of his neck.
Amorette
Quand on n'a que l'amour.
@[Radar]
We can continue in Sylva! But really wanted her to answer him <3.
