ooc. he didn't even make it to the actual border in the end, so dw about him trespassing. Just a gay idiot in a field!

The latest batch of his spiced mead had been way too strong. It was nearly impossible to keep his paws under him, yet he'd managed to wander quite far from the familiar surroundings of his temporary home in the caves along the southern coast of Boreas. Far enough to have found warmer climes, as well as the beginnings of an impossibly starry sky. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of the musk of border markings. Growing closer with each wobbly step, but he wasn't close enough to register them properly. All of those stars were whirling about the sky almost too fast for him to comprehend, and as he broke through the treeline at a slow stagger, the wraith stopped dead in his tracks. Once he stopped moving, the stars settled into their proper places against the rich backdrop of the midmight sky. The thin sliver of the moon overhead didn't drown out the myriad sparkles of the stars and planets overhead. The gods all lived up there, all except for his. Drunk and still harbouring unspoken trauma from his exile, it was more than enough to draw tears to his eyes. Would he get to be up there among them one day? All of his usual grace was lost, and the delicate waif dropped heavily onto his haunches to stare blankly up at the stars.

Two toned gaze drank in the gentle whorls that the smallest stars formed as they traversed the sky, a trail of glittering dust spanning the length of the impossibly massive sky, then decorated by the larger bodies of a few planets. Too distant to truly see, but their light was far brighter than the stars, tinted in shades of ruddy gold and crystalline azure. His lower jaw hung open just the slightest, long fangs glinting in the starlight and bottom lip still stained with the last dregs of mead. As he craned his head even further up, up, up to see it all... he tumbled straight backwards. Landing on his back with a soft oof of surprise, he found himself too weak willed to bother sitting back up. The grasses here were impossibly lush, a green cushion against his slender spine. Besides, he could see all of the stars from down here, just by tipping his head to one side or the other. The amethyst marked yearling didn't know much about the night sky, aside from its status as the home of the divinities, but he knew it was beautiful to look at. Clusters of those winking lights formed subtle shapes that he had to really concentrate in order to trace over with an outstretched paw. What did they mean?

Tucking his mismatched forepaws close to his narrow ribs, he stretched his hind legs out into the thick grass. A tiny comet streaked across the sky, almost too fast for his mead-addled mind to track its path overhead. By the time he realized he was falling asleep, it was too late to move elsewhere. The plains would do just fine for a quick nap.. he'd get up before the sun, right? As the last vestiges of consciousness abandoned him, his tapered crown tipped over, and he fell asleep with his cheek pillowed on the verdant grasses of the vast plain.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "others"

Emile wasn't sleeping tonight, his doubts and worries were too loud in his head, so Emile was out. He slunk from the shadows of the castle's walls but didn't wander too far. But the silence of the night was calming, even as the fresh memories of the long night played in his mind. His scar ached duly at the memory. He settled into the grasses, lowering onto his haunches and turned his attention towards the sky. Slowly a scent reached him on the lazy evening wind, a stranger. Emile was on alert then, he peered between the grasses, forest green gaze scouring for the wolf. Were they about to be attacked, should he call for backup? But the scent was of just one wolf and they weren't exactly charging towards the border. Emile hunched, doing his best to remain unseen he watched as the form of a stranger staggered about, before finally falling over. Emile couldn't help but feel a bit of concern and he peered over the grass, dithering for a moment before he finally approached, paws crossing over the border. "Aaaaare you o...kay?" He asked as he approached. "Speech"

Art by EffraSorbus

It took more than a few moments for the dazed yearling to figure out what had roused him from his doze. A voice. Quiet and tentative, but nevertheless audible. He lifted his head groggily, rolled onto his flank, and blinked owlishly at the strange male. He was comparatively small, hay coloured and brindled with ivory. Even in the dark, the smaller boy's verdant eyes stood out like lamps against his pale mask. "You're rather sweet looking, for a mortal." he drawled absently. It took a great deal of effort to get himself sitting up onto one hip, hind limbs splayed carelessly to one side and leaning most of his weight on one slender foreleg. Emboldened by the lingering inebriation, he curled the corner of his maw up in a rakish grin. Two toned eyes half shut with drowsiness, he gave the stranger another casual once over. Yes, he was decidedly sweet looking. The demure posture, the hesitation that bled from his every pore. It had managed to draw the ordinarily shy yearling in, a moth to flame.

"Did you come all this way just to check up on me?" he asked, long fangs glinting in the moonlight and plush banner thumping lazily on the thick grass beneath him. Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was simply that he was tipsy and young, but he wasn't all that eager to take off quite yet.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "others"

Emile's brows were furrowed in worry, the usual instinct to hide his scar all but forgotten in the moment of wanting to make sure this stranger wasn't hurt, his mind already going through the rolodex of the treatments he knew. He was at his least timid when he had a task to tackle, someone to help. When he felt like others were counting on him, it was counter intuitive maybe, after all most of the time he assumed he was an undue burden on others, useless but the moments he got to put his limited healing knowledge to the test he started to break out of his shell. He was quick to flee back inside however, his face flooding suddenly with color as the stranger's words reached him and instinct made him duck his head, tilting it so his scar was hidden as best it could be. He backpaddled a bit to give the much bigger boy space to lift himself to his haunches. He felt the other male's eyes rove over him and Emile really wasn't sure what to make of that. On one hand it was a totally new sensation to the boy who was used to being overlooked and tended to prefer it that way, much as some part of him yearned for attention, and on the other he hardly knew the stranger. A question reached him and Emile swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "Ah," he started doing great already, "Yes, you collllllapsed suddenly aaaaaaand it startled mmmmmme." He tried not to visibly flinch when he stumbled over his words, the warmth in his face made him very much aware of his usual struggle not to stutter and seemed to make it worse, at least to his ears. "Speech"

Art by EffraSorbus

The way the nervous boy skittered a few steps back awakened a strange kind of predatory focus in the godling. Bichromatic eyes zeroing in on the pale male and skimming over the pull of his muscles along his flanks and legs, the tautness of his neck. And then in a flash, it had passed. He blinked once, twice, let the lingering dregs of his buzz coil back around his mind like a warm fog. The words tumbled free of the other boy hesitantly and haltingly, a persistent stutter that alternated between pauses and dragging out syllables. He'd never heard anything quite like it. A thoughtful hum bubbled up from his slender ribs, and he quirked a brow ever so slightly.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his grin widened briefly. "How kind of you," he crooned, tilting his crown for a moment as he paused to follow the path of an owl on the other end of the plains. "the world is all the better with blessings such as yourself in it." he mused, and pushed his weight further up onto his hip until he could roll his haunches back under his body to recline fully upright. Plush banner wrapped loosely around his thigh as he straightened his shoulders. "Not many have the heart to check on the wellbeing of a stranger, especially so late at night." he added, glancing pointedly at the blonde male and then away for a moment. "What's your name? Mine is Pontifex." the young wraith drawled, trailing off as he debated for a moment whether or not to offer up his surname. No, what was the point? No one knew the Fallen, not yet. It lacked the gravity of being Abraxas in these lands.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "Pollux"