[private] It's been awhile since I first saw you

[Aela]

Aela's blue eyes narrow almost imperceptibly but she still manages a slight smile. She's had practice, after all. Aela - who has never claimed to be good at politics - has held conversations with Obscene and Reave concerning ruling and what they could do with the positions they held in Beqanna. She has gone with the Pampas Prince on a similar trip to Loess and that had been part of the reason why she had agreed to come along on this one.

Even if she had no particular care for Sylva and a distrust for their now-maroon leader, there was the chance to observe Obscene. (Aela never misses a chance to learn anything. And besides, the information she gathered here might eventually prove useful. She was not like her fabled granddam or half-brother that had the ability to simply see what they wished. The palomino repeatedly threw herself into the heart of issues solely for this reason. It was hard for Aela to trust anybody and to accept a recollection seemed risky. Even a memory could be glamoured by the haze of an emotion.)

Her more than pretty face glances down to the spear and then lifts with a bright expression, one that feeds into Obscene's irritation as he stamps a hoof.

"I've always been careful of where I step," Aela replies demurely back, as if the woman with a spear jutting out of her chest hadn't been.

Obscene might very well excuse from the conversation for it, she knew. But her temper ignited in the depths of her blue eyes and flickered there for a moment as she looked to Sabra and then back to her companion. She casts her glance on him and then decides to let him take the lead on the rest of the conversation. Nothing good could come from her fiery nature - not now, not when they were so close to a mare who always seemed on the edge of spiteful fury. On a rage that could prove to be lethal if she was provoked enough.

So she listens as Obscene inquires to why this mysterious woman - Sabra  - lingered in these woods. He mentions Oceane and Aela could scoff at the mention of peace and calm. What had peace and calm done for anyone but make them insufferably dull?

It's the shift in the stallion next to her that she feels first, before his reluctance floods her. Aela - who has been bold towards every step of this goal of bringing chaos to Beqanna - hesitates and her stance stiffens. Her head lifts and she watches as the Prince reaches to touch Sabra, to murmur about what two rulers might do to keep things from getting boring. The way he whispers to Sabra seems to imply something (even if his emotions suggest differently) and Aela can't help herself from looking toward the crafty Sylvan, wondering how she might respond, wondering as Aela always does: if this might be something they can use.

@Sabra she is the worst and i am sorry
@Obscene

[Sabra]

A stone has been thrown into the pool, manifesting as a physical rippling across my skin. Darkest, defiant maroon shudders like the falsehood it is, blood streaked blue emerging from beneath like a quickly blooming bruise. My heart has accelerated, pupils dilated, mouth gone papery dry. 

I'm being hunted. 

Pursued. And Sabra knows more about that than anyone. My expression goes cold as winter wind, no longer amused. It shimmers like imperfect glass as I paw the soft earth, releasing a stream of blood from my chest with the jerking motion. 

"I have half a mind to rip the tongue from your pretty head, princess. See how cheeky you are then." I almost sing the threat, elated with the concept. The image of blood pouring crimson from her lips while she tries to scream through it paints itself across my thoughts clear as a bell before tearing itself apart once more a moment later. 

My gaze lingers on her proud face a touch longer than necessary, before I turn back to the inky stallion running this outfit. Supposedly. My mouth takes on a cruel edge as I consider him. Is this gilded girl the one calling the shots? At the reins, to use a phrase. Head tilting inquisitively, I offer a cool smile to the glittering man. 

"These woods are mine. And will be until the day I die," I say with no inflection. That I cannot really die seems... a trifling detail, really. Sylva has been my shelter and my haven since long before I became what I am. More faithful than any lover, it will hold me long after I've changed again. "Just because the woods are quiet, does not mean monsters don't linger within. Oceane may learn that soon enough." And this brings a truer smile to my face. 

I stiffen as he moves in, ears flicking against my skull in response to the uninvited touch. A very deliberate step to the side widens the space between us again, venom cast from my gaze as his red eyes at last meet my own. Never again without my permission will I accept another's touch, less enough from a boy trying to fill steps larger than his own. Even if he is pretty. 

"I have my own ways of avoiding boredom, Prince. You may have my suggestions; Though I have my doubts about your ability to stomach them." The gilt girl on the other hand... She may enjoy playing with fire, and I am curious to see if she can hold lightening as well. I hate them both, I think, but liking and working with are not tied together. 

@Aela@"Obscene"

[Obscene]

I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me

There was a time when he had first met Sabra that he was sure she might have wanted him in some capacity. The last thing he would ever want is to touch her the way he does the golden mare behind him but there had been times when Aela had urged him to use his few skills for good use and this seems like one of those moments where he should at least try. It’s a mixture of relief and rejection (since when had this not worked?) when she steps away with a hard gaze at him. He says nothing as she casts her venom, his expression remaining the same as she speaks of his inability to stomach whatever she might have in mind. He gives a slight shrug, there was no point in trying to hide something that Sabra had already known about him, had pulled out of him when he was still confused beneath her hypnotizing gaze. He hadn’t had the snake then, the uncontrollable thing within him that seemed to pop out when he couldn’t rein in his emotions, that hungered for blood and bone and chaos. That thing might have the stomach Sabra mentioned but the last thing he wanted was for the speared mare to discover that tidibit.

There were too many already that had either seen his scales or the snake already. He knew the danger that lay inside him, one that he could not control. He had already spent many sleepless nights considering the worst outcomes. Becoming the snake and never finding his way back out, someone controlling the snake (controlling him) for their own use, becoming an unwilling and vicious slave to the whims of someone else. It was one thing to be guided by Aela, to let her take control of the wheel at times. He was aware of her subtle manipulations at time but there seemed to be some sort of give and take there.

There would be none if the snake was in control. And someone was in control of the snake.

“So what do you suggest then Sabra?” He asks with a sigh, not wanting to see the look on Aela’s face that he had failed to charm or seduce her. That he had somehow failed in the one thing he had always been good at. Instead, he fixes his charming smile on the pierced woman and considers what she had said earlier as he waits for her response. Something about monsters and Oceane. He rather liked Oceane but he did have to admit with Aela that when in charge of a motley crew like those of Sylva and the Pampas, keeping them on a short leash would only make it worse. He had tried to find a middle ground with the Loessian Queen, an outlet for those monsters and tricksters and chaos lovers. She hadn’t seen the reason, the logic in his request.

So now they were here. Plotting with the enemy so to speak. And while the dark Fae may not have cravings for unnecessary bloodshed and death, he could appreciate a creative approach to mayhem and mischief. Thrived on it, so to speak. So whatever Sabra had in mind, he would at least consider. There was no harm in considering all the possibilities after all.

obscene

@Aela
@Sabra

[Aela]

Aela can see Sabra's reaction as much as she can sense it.

Her pupils dilate, giving something away and the Empath watches with an almost predatory glance. She has always been a patient creature and the palomino sees no sense in baiting the Sylvan mare further. The reaction she recieves tells Aela everything she needs to know: the images of her blood-stained face flooding her mind and the wrath she feels burning from the maroon woman before them. That spear has struck more than a nerve and the golden mare knows that Sabra would be more than capable of harming her.

Chaos and violence are singing in Sabra's soul and until Aela can present her with another target, she will remain silent.

(But, oh, isn't it tempting to think of unleashing that anger on some unsuspecting victim? Just to wield power for the sake of using it? What might Sabra's lightning strikes do to a spirit? Would they illuminate possibilities or simply extinguish their light?)

She watches quietly as Obscene moves closer to the speared woman and her head tilts curiously as the Sylvan steps away from him. His onyx-and-gold coat catches on the sunlight that streams down from the blazing canopy above. Sabra's woods were quiet, though she implied there were monsters within them. What kind, she wonders? The Pampas was attracting their own little following of those who wished to seek out their fortunes, who wanted their name to tied with one of the most powerful courts that Beqanna currently had to offer. (Even if they can't reach some kind of agreement with Sabra, it didn't mean they couldn't... borrow anyone who might prove useful.)

The palomino is focused on Sabra and doesn't break her concentration to add anything to their conversation. Aela wants a glimpse of the terrors that were rumored to be in Sylva, if they really existed. She wants to know what the older mare does to cure to her boredom, since she keeps her autumnal woods so quiet and her terrors so neatly tucked away. Taking a step towards Obscene, she brushes her golden skin against his, knowing that the two of them together are a striking pair.

They are both eternally young, beautiful to the point of divine.

And who better to convey that to than Sabra, who bleeds as openly as she doubts them?

@Sabra @Obscene