She choked on her saliva that seemed to come in droves as she fought the urge to vomit.

But she was not alone. Her Ravens, they came to her, one offering her a new shiny thing, the other k’rawwing about fetching the fireboy. Absinth gave a reluctant nod, her ears flattening at the thought of showing Aresenn yet another pathetic display… but if her father was skulking around, he needed to know. The raven took off, and Absinth continued on her way, swaying this way and that as a touch of delirium assaulted her psyche with laughter. She progressed slowly, eyes fixed on the path ahead with eerie intensity. When she finally made it to her desired destination, she released a frustrated scream, jaws snapping at nothing in particular in the air around her.

Again a crescendo of laughter escaped her inky law, eyes wide and frantic as they scanned her surroundings before she barreled into a dugout tunnel in the crook of a fallen tree.

Stumbling into her old den, still riddled with her keepsakes and pretty bones. Her body crashed into the side of the den wall, the old claw marks she had left there tugging at her soiled ivory pelt as she lurched against the grooves, limbs fatigued enough that she was entirely unsteady. She had spent the better half of the day in a bloodthirsty daze. Killing anything that moved. Her usually well-kept coat was soaked in blood, so much so that it coagulated at her chest and hung in tear drop shaped clots. She had amassed numerous cuts and scrapes all along her body, but she felt none of them. All she could feel was a chill, a dread that muddled her mind. She hated this. She hated this anticipation that chilled her to her bones, the senseless fear that gripped her. 

She slammed her skull into the wall of the den, eyes squeezed shut as she continued to do so. Every impact was met with a light dusting and crumble of the ceiling of her old abode. Blood dripped from where a rock had defended the wall from her skull, causing a splice above her right eyebrow from sheer blunt force.

At the same time her chest tightened, making it difficult for her to breathe. Fuck! Her heart raced uncontrollably, a thunderous beat echoing in her ears whilst her nails sank deep into the bedding below her paws. Fuck! Fuck!! Sweating and trembling, she struggled to maintain control over her body, quick successive gasps for air came and went, her vision spinning as she tried to ground herself by remembering that she was stronger than her fear. God damn it! But those waves of irrational fear continued to wash over her, distorting her perception of reality. The den around her, once familiar, now seemed menacing and suffocating. Unfamiliar. Strange. Why?! Thoughts raced through her mind at an alarming speed, a chaotic array of worry and dread. He had stolen her freedom, again. His grip an asphyxiating hold on her life, just like the sensation of air barely pulling into her lungs in short painful gasps. She couldn’t breathe. Why.. can’t I get away? Despite being in a place she had often found comforting, she felt an overwhelming sense of isolation. What if he took her back home, as some bullshit form of punishment? Absinth grappled with a sense of impending doom, her instincts urging her to escape while an invisible force held her in place. What was the point in running again? Her thoughts were intense and visceral, her body steadily draining of its vigor as she collapsed into a heap upon bedding littered with feathers. She promised herself she would never run again.

wormwood

Aresenn heard the panicked cry of the raven before he saw it, a sudden sharp crack in the stillness. He paused his meticulous work with- a tilt to his head as he glanced up toward the sky. It wasn’t unlike Absinth to pull him away when he was right in the middle of something- he was all to willing to encourage her distraction. And even though he had a sharp retort ready to send back with the Raven, it died unspoken as he caught sight of her messenger. The raven's feathers were ruffled and its eyes gleamed with an urgency that immediately left a sinking feeling in his gut. What now?

As he neared her den, her scent, usually pleasant- familiar- was tainted by the heavy metallic smell of blood. His pace quickened, dread knotting in his gut. Rage mixed with enough concern to distort his vision. The entrance to Absinth's den was a foreboding sight. The ground around it was a disarray of disturbed soil and trampled foliage, consistently bearing signs of conflict- or a psychotic break. Perhaps some of both? Aresenn’s heart pounded in his chest as he approached, the eerie silence pricking at his nerves. He burst through the entrance of the small space as if the threat occupied the same space. Yet, it was only her. Oh god, it was only her.

Inside he was met with a scene straight out of a nightmarish tableau - blood-splattered walls and fragments of bones scattered haphazardly- her treasures. His gaze landed on Absinth, who lay in a heap on the soiled bedding, her chest rising and falling with erratic breaths. His mind raced, overwhelmed in the split seconds of trying to draw a conclusion on what to do next. They needed a healer. He needed to hold her- to ensure that she was safe only to be convinced by his own physical touch … and he needed to kill whoever did this to her. He couldn’t find the rationality to prioritize. How could he? “Who did this!?” He asked, his voice angry and desperate as he drew near. It was all he could manage of himself to await her answer, immediately assuming that Rhazien was involved.

"Aresenn Praetor"

As Aresenn burst into the den, Absinth lay among the aftermath of her breakdown, her body trembling with a blend of fear and exhaustion. She flinched at his entrance, hackles bristling as she fought to rise and assume a defensive posture. Seeing him evoked conflicting emotions - relief at his presence, yet deep-seated dread at the severity of the situation. She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding free, causing her chest to heave and rapidly suck in and out more oxygen as she fell back to the floor again.

His voice, a mix of anger and concern, demanded answers, his footsteps resonating in the confined space. Absinth struggled to articulate, her throat dry and tight. His voice, brimming with fury, shattered the silence that had only been disturbed by her struggles. ‘Who did this?’ He utterly demanded, his words reverberating in the small room. She could sense the turmoil within him, mirroring the chaos threatening to overwhelm her. Fuck!

As he drew nearer, his presence felt to her, a lifeline and she struggled to find the words to answer him. Every breath was a battle, every syllable weighed down by the weight of her hysteria. The air felt like a curse she was forced to suck down to survive. She could only meet his gaze, her eyes wild with panic and tinged with hatred, though none of it directed at him. The words almost choked her as she forced them out. And still, they came rolling off her tongue in a gag, bile threatening to spill forth as she uttered the name. “Setekh.” Summoning her remaining strength, Absinth pushed herself up slightly, meeting his gaze with defiance and vulnerability. “He found me-! He's here! In the shadows, watching me-! Shit! He attacked Yarrabelle! He fucking warned her- he was after me!” Absinth, despite her usual bravado and wickedry, gasped out, her weakened frame lurching to lean into him, seeking his support. She needed an anchor, and he was it. Of course he was. Her mind was still reeling, trying to ground herself, trying to make sense of how this could have happened. Was her father truly a God? How could he have found her? "I- I don't understand why-- why I'm so... afraid." She huffed, her lips curling into a smirk as she laughed, and laughed.  But she did know, oh she knew. His fury. He had to be angry with her. Angry that she left the place he'd left her. That she hadn't been a good little girl.

wormwood

Aresenn’s brow furrowed as he absorbed her words. Setekh. The insatiable god. The name rang in his ears like a death knell, drowning out the chaotic symphony of his own thoughts. The pieces snapped together in his mind- what little information he knew of Absinth’s background forming a picture so dark it stole his breath away. The fear lurking in Absinth’s usually vibrant eyes was an unfamiliar sight, and one that didn’t sit well with him. He watched helplessly as she laughed - a broken sound that echoed in the hollow confines of the room. It was an unwelcome reminder of how vulnerable she was in that moment, and how he wasn’t sure how to comfort her. How afraid she was of her own father. It stirred a visceral reaction within Aresenn.

"Absinth," he began softly, gently shifting her leaning form closer to him. The warm, amber glow of his eyes bore against her trembling frame. His voice was tempered steel, the anger and his own fear subdued beneath his need to reassure her. “Your father is just a man.” He reiterated once again. "And like any man, he can be stopped." A sentiment he conveyed once before. Even still, he held Absinth closer, trying to convey his determination through their shared warmth. His mind churned with possibilities and plans - strategies of attack, escape routes, contingency measures - but all of it seemed too distant, too abstract in the face of her fear. As he looked into her eyes, he saw not just the fear but also the defiance. Even in her current state, she was a fighter—resilient and fierce as ever. A surge of admiration washed over him, mingling with the storm of his emotions.

"Absinth," he said again, his voice rough with determination. "We can fight him. Together." His grip tightened around her- firm and unyielding. He wanted to offer her something solid to hold on to, something to ground herself against. “It’s not wrong to be afraid, but it's what we do in spite of that fear that defines us. This … this is the response he craves.” He gestured between them, his brow furrowed with unwavering resolve, "Your panic, your shout into the dark? This fear? He wants you to feel it. To validate his power over you." His gaze fixed to hers, a wildfire against her icy terror. "But he does not know you as I do. You are stronger than he could ever understand." His declaration was punctuated by the rhythmic beat of his heart thudding heavily against his chest. “Don’t allow him that power.” He finished in a hushed tone.

"Aresenn Praetor"

Aresenn's words pierced through the haze of her fear, beginning to ground her in his steadfast presence. He drew her close as she rushed to him, and while her body had been so rigid with nerves she slowly went lax in his embrace, her breaths still coming in quick puffs as the fae shuddered against his fiery hide. She was actively fighting her panic, her teeth biting into her own lips as her pinned ears fought to hold onto his every word through the racing of her heartbeat. Fuck. Fucking stupid!

He’s just a man. Just a man. They… they could fight him. Together…? She repeated the words in her mind, trying to get his reassurances through her rattled psyche. She gave a shaky nod against his shoulder, wild eyes fixated on the wall of the den ahead. She was behaving more so like a cornered cat, ready and coiled for an attack she perceived was inevitable. She knew what her father could do to a wolf, how he could string out their cries, make them beg, and corrode their minds until they were nothing. What if something happened to Aresenn? Setekh had already reached Yarrabelle. Had she even seen Setekh bleed before? Surely? Had she forgotten? Was… was that another construct of his? That she hadn’t even realized he’d done to her? Was… was she not as clever as she had always thought? Why else was she so frightened now? Absinth swallowed hard, face wrinkling in thought as her brows knitted together. But… If he could bleed… he could be… killed? Kill her father? “I… I can kill him...” She couldn’t understand. It was… impossible. No. No. That wasn’t Absinth. Anything she could fight, she could kill. “You, you’re right. That sick fuck. He’s probably getting off to this shit right now!” She hissed, anger taking over the woman’s panic almost instantly. Her tail lashed, teeth grit as she snarled curses towards the den’s entrance. “YOU FUCKING HEAR ME OLD MAN?!” She screamed, fury and hysteria coloring her words. She broke free from Aresenn’s grasp, her fur standing on end, scrabbling and rushing to the den entrance before she boomed out another series of harsh words, her chest puffed out as her tail curled over her back. “I’M NOT YOUR PLAYTHING ANYMORE! BITCH! YOU DISGUSTING CUNT! FUCK YOU! FUCK! YOU!” She screamed into the darkness….. receiving a not-so-distant laugh in return after many moments. Was it real? She looked to Aresenn, trying to find reassurance in his gaze. Had he heard it too?
wormwood

Aresenn watched the transformation with a guarded satisfaction, the tide of fear retreating to reveal a tempest of fury. The spark he'd felt within her had kindled into a blazing inferno. He let her go when she pulled away, standing tall and defiant in the mouth of the den. His expression hardened as he listened to her words echo into the dark abyss, his heart pounding in response to the raw power emanating from her.

Then came a laugh, chilling and distant. It rolled back towards them like a cold wind, ruffling Aresenn's fur and making his blood run colder still. For an instant, he faltered, staring into the inky void as his hackles raised. His insides twisted with a strange mixture of dread and anticipation. He swallowed, his throat dry. But then he caught Absinth's gaze, saw her seeking reassurance from him. That was enough. His heart steadied and he lifted his chin, stepping up to stand by her side at the mouth of the den. His gaze blazed with a wild determination, matching the fury in her own. "He hears you," he growled, his voice echoing into the dark abyss that housed their adversary. The confidence oozed from his every word, painting an image of unwavering bravery against the face of immeasurable odds. "And he'll hear a hell of a lot more before we’re done with him ... Then he will hear no more."

He turned towards her then, a challenge flashing in his eyes. Aresenn was never one to shy away from conflict – in fact, he thrived in it. He squirmed under the suffocating hold of her subsiding terror and let his anger consume him, just as Absinth had done. This was their fight. And he was ready to stand with her till the end.

"Aresenn Praetor"