Raisa was about done with this godsbedamned heat. Every day was the same, and she was weeks away from up and moving north. If it persisted for much longer their water, prey, and sanity would certainly wither away. As it was the woman had fled the garden to lounge in the shade of the lakes edge. Even here the plants seemed to be worn thin and drooping, brown despite the saturation in the soil. Raisa refused to pant, refused the give the sun it's satisfaction. Instead she sat amongst the underbrush, mostly disguised within the mottled shadows cast down from above, glaring at the water's surface. What she wouldn't give for a good, torrential summer downpour. Instead she sighed and flopped over onto her side, glaring at the flight path of a mosquito that, honestly, seemed as worn out as she. It buzzed this way and that, as if drunk by the heat, and the sooty queen found herself rolling her eyes. "Even the bugs are done with this bullshit..." She grumbled to herself, allowing her eyes to drift closed, thinking perhaps a nap would ease her woes. "Talk" "You" Think

He'd never been a fan of the summer, even if it had been the season that saw his life begin. Granted, it was the best season to spend time in the water, but when one was without water it was positively dreadful. Not a smile or simper crossed his lips, which were parted in effort to pant and lower his overall body temperature. This was one time when he did not relish in being a man of considerable size. "Even the bugs are done with this bullshit..." He couldn't help but chuckle, even if he didn't know or see the speaker. "Aye, they are." He would respond in effort to find out where the stranger was, and if he happened to be welcome here. The awful and strong aroma of a pack drifted toward him and he knew at once he could go no further. Perhaps this pack wolf would have enough decency to offer a stranger a drink, or perhaps not. "Would you mind telling a fella where there is some water he could drink? This damned heat is unforgivable." There was a certain celtic twang to his voice, but nothing that made it seem like gibberish or garbled in a mess. No, he'd practiced enough to tame his accent into something that was merely seasoning to his baritone notes. He stood stock still, feeling the sweltering heat beating down on his back, a gentle sway in his banner and an unassuming look upon his mask. "Talk" "You" Think

The intrusion may once have made Raisa jump, but now it only made her sigh. Honestly, she was getting used to random wolves just wandering onto her lands. She didn't have the strictest border control, obviously, but sometimes is got a little ridiculous. She pushed herself up rather quickly into a sitting position, a disgruntled marring her otherwise pretty features, knowing if she took it slow she'd just collapse back down from lack of caring. To her surprise, she came practically face to face with a handsome, battleworn male. His voice had a nice lilt to it, one that reminded her of the northern clans from her homeland. She looked at him through narrowed eyes, trying to discern if he was anyone she knew. Her mouth opened once, prepared to tell him off, but she sighed and closed it once more. Her head fell in defeat and she murmured, "Not a moment of peace," with the barest hint of a sarcastic edge. She came up with a wry smile and tossed her muzzle over her shoulder, towards the lake. "There's a lake over that-a-ways." Her tone suggested a shrug she did not show. Honestly, if he wanted to maul her or something he was welcome to it. Anything to escape this cursed summer heat. "Talk" "You" Think

"Not a moment of peace," she would utter before showing herself to him. She was unbelievably close, and unbelievably familiar. Eyes of honey would examine her for a moment, trying to pinpoint just where he knew her from. Nonchalantly she would tell him of a lake, gesturing in the general direction. For a moment he hesitated, tilting his head to the right. He lingered just on the edge of the border, and her telling him of the lake - which resided inside the border as far as he knew - seemed almost like a trap. Was she trying to get him jumped? Why would a stranger try a thing like that? Why would a woman try a thing like that? "Aye, I see there is. Any chance there's unclaimed water somewhere in the vicinity? I'd hate to tick off whoever laid these borders." Little did he know he was talking to the woman herself. "And my apologies for bothering you. I swear I'm usually not this helpless, but I've only just traveled here and haven't a clue where anything is." Perhaps excuses weren't necessary, but he hoped she might have a bit more patience with him knowing his particular circumstance. He thought to tag on his name, but seeing as he knew very little about how much help she'd actually be, he decided it best to save that for a more appropriate time. In the moments of silence that came after his utterance, Aeryc would note her particular markings. He recalled them from years before, but could not sever the specific memory in his mind. Perhaps he'd only seen her in his travels, or somewhere like that. "Talk" "You" Think

Raisa chuckled at the man's response. It was always a bit of a thrill for a stranger to speak to her as just another wolf. Not that she did not enjoy her new throne, but it certainly presented many an amusing situation. She rolled her eyes and said, "Well, seeing as these are my borders, I think it'll be okay. If my followers pick a bone with you over it, I'll back you up." Raisa stood and turned her back to the man, walking a few paces towards the lake before looking to see if he trailed her. It occurred to her that he might have taken her irritation with the heat as irritation with him, and she sighed. "I won't bite you, I promise. Heat makes me surly. Come on, I'm not about to leave a mannerly brute to shrivel up and die while my lake rests but a few paces away. Don't come if that suits you better, I guess, makes no matter to me." She turned and continued her trek. If he decided to accept her invitation, perhaps she might get to know him better. It was evident that he was foreign to this land, in both his accent and lack of direction. Raisa broke through the tree barrier with little mind for her fur and the snagging brambles, pressing on with stubborn intent. The rocky shore soon gave way to chilled water, and the queen waded in up to her elbows, savoring the chill and trying her best to ignore the sunlight on her back. "Talk" "You" Think

Had he known she was the holder of the lands he might've been more courteous, more chivalrous - but as it stood he had no earthly clue, and behaved as such. Granted, he was almost always kind and gentle, and this was no exception. "Well, seeing as these are my borders, I think it'll be okay. If my followers pick a bone with you over it, I'll back you up." Eyes widened as this particular phrase rang from the woman's throat, her trachea vibrating with pride and leadership. An ear flickered back, then another, as his head and neck bowed low in reverence. "My sincerest apologies for intruding on your rest, Your Grace, I fear I have made a mockery of myself." He watched as she stood, turning away from him before looking back as if he were supposed to follow. With a moment's hesitation he would follow, allowing a gentle laugh to slip past his lips. "I won't bite you, I promise. Heat makes me surly. Come on, I'm not about to leave a mannerly brute to shrivel up and die while my lake rests but a few paces away. Don't come if that suits you better, I guess, makes no matter to me." He followed behind her obediently, jowls unhinging in verse. "It would be foolish of me to disregard the obvious courtesies of a Queen." Besides, he really was in need of a drink. Aeryc padded along behind her, keeping a respectable distance so that he wouldn't appear menacing in any way. The last thing he needed to do was encroach upon the leader of this pack. The brambles did little, merely attempting to bite at his flanks as he passed through them. The pain was nothing compared to pains he'd once known, and he ignored it as he slithered through and into the open. The lake appeared before him, stretching a good distance. The Queen would slip into the drink, and without hesitation he would slide in after her, his paws bringing him up noisily to her right side. Aeryc had trained himself to make his presence known, as it was easy for such a large, battle scarred fellow to frighten wolves if he just suddenly appeared. His crown dipped low, tongue lapping away furiously at the water. It wasn't as cool as he imagined it would be in spring or winter, but it did much to quench his thirst. "I can't thank you enough," he murmured when he'd drank his fill. "Talk" "You" Think

As she had anticipated, the man's demeanor turned with haste as she mentioned her position. He even had the mind to bow and Raisa could not decide whether to chuckle or narrow her eyes. Didn't they know how exhausting it could be to be formal all day long and with everyone? It took serious effort! And she had so been enjoying their little exchange too. At least he had the presence of mind to stick around. "Don't bother with the graces and majesties. It's too hot to be dignified." He thanked her for the water and she shrugged. What sort of wolf would deny another something like that? It baffled her how often rogues were surprised by simple acts of kindness. All the sooty fae knew was that a rogues life was a lot harder than it had to be, and usually pack wolves made it all the worse. It wasn't a habit she wanted to fall into, knowing first hand the sort of things that could go wrong in a body's life. She looked to the russet male and raised a brow, hoping to change the topic. "Anyways, my name is Raisa Xanilov. Who might you be, stranger?" His accent intrigued her, and she thought that learning more about him might be a decent way to pass the time. "Talk" "You" Think

To think that because it was hot he'd lost nearly all of his mannerly instincts was a surprising notion to Aeryc, but he supposed a heat such as this could do that to a man - or a woman. As water droplets formed and fell from his maw he shook his head lightly enough to rid them, but not so hard as to spray the kind woman who'd most certainly helped keep him alive. He couldn't help but chuckle as she told him not to bother with the graces and majesties, commenting that it was too hot to worry about one's dignity. Indeed it was, there were far more essential things to worry about. He shifted his weight on all four paws, unwilling to leave the burden upon a single side for too long. As her eyes met his he found his head swiveling to face her, an ear twitching out of instinct as she uttered her name: Raisa Xanilov. It was as if someone had dropped a brick into his gullet, weighing him down from his very center. The scars on his face - long since healed - gave off a burning sensation (though he was later certain that he'd only imagined the feeling). Xanilov. Xanilov of Old Ebony. She was of the bloodline the coup had sought to destroy altogether. She was of the bloodline he'd been unknowingly forced to attack. A brow rose, then the other as his mind fought hard to digest all of the information that came flooding into his mind at the mere utterance of her name. Moments passed, perhaps minutes, before his mind finally forced his jowls to part and utter his own name in a monotone timbre. "Aeryc Seaborn." There was always the miracle that she might not know his name, might not recognize it as a name that had been tarnished with the coup's bad intentions. Aeryc had simply been among the wrong crowd, had been battered by the wrong wind. He hadn't wanted to attack the Xanilov's, he ran as soon as he'd found out what was going on. They had tried to stop him, but he'd escaped. Awe filled his features, it was by no miracle he had found a living Xanilov. This was destiny in its truest sense. "Talk" "You" Think

Raisa watched as a half dozen emotions played across the auburn man's features. Confusion, comprehension, apprehension, awe... It all pointed to one thing and Raisa's heart sank. They had been having such a nice afternoon, too. As of late, all the terribly scarred wolves she'd come across had been somehow linked to her homeland, surely he would be no different. She tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. Her companion might very well have just become her enemy, and gods only knew she was in no mood for a fight. She took one hesitant step backwards, towards the shore, waiting for him to lunge. Instead, he just murmured his name. His first calling stirred no memory, but the surname was familiar. A small family, a coastal clan, claiming no notable rank in the court. They were common folk, more often than not, and she had not seen much of them in the noble territories. Yet here he was, before her, and oh so much had changed. Strangely enough, though she knew for a fact that the Seaborns had waged against the Xanilovs, he did not lunge or show an ounce of aggression. Raisa blinked at him, still tense, waiting. The silence between them grew stretched and awkward, and finally she felt she must break it. "Is that where you got your scars from, then?" Her voice was soft, yet carried an edge. Her unease was certainly palpable, both to the ears and eyes. "The night when everything changed?" He had seemed like such a gentleman too... "Talk" "You" Think

There came a flashback, so hard and fast he was certain it would set his body reeling. Alas, he stood firm as he recalled it all, every second of turmoil and confusion and insanity. He hadn't been there very long, not even long enough to properly introduce him to everyone in the pack, before it had gone downhill. He hadn't even known what was going on. Wolves had sprung to life in the dead of night, dragging him from his den with whoops and cries and declarations of a new era. Blindly he'd followed them, remembering how strange and exhilarating he felt as he fell in line with the regime. Then the massacre had started, and at the first death he'd found himself on the wrong side of the war being waged. He hadn't had any qualms with the Xanilov's, and when he'd shared that opinion he'd been attacked for being a coward. He still bore the scars today. The flashback ended in gore and blood, and temporary blindness in one eye. His father, well, he'd never found him - though it was likely he was killed in the assault. She would ask a blatant question, to which he would offer a sincere "Aye," in response. She had retreated sometime during his musings, and her demeanor had altogether changed. He breathed a sigh, lowering his frame to the water's surface and below it. It mingled with his coat, and as his ears lay back he did his best to appear as low as he could. "I know what you think," he paused, his voice heavy. "and you have every right to think it." Eyes sought the bi-colored hue of her gaze to prove his sincerity. "But you also have every right to hear the truth, Your Grace." Perhaps this was the time for pleasantries. With a sharp intake of breath he began his recollection of, as she put it, the night that everything changed. "I'd like to blame my foolishness on naivety, and perhaps to some degree I could get away with that - but foolishness played a part too. I was young when it happened, naught but a year. The men who came after your family, they were the first to receive my father and I. I looked up to them, Knights of valor and strength. I would have gone to the ends of the earth for them if they'd asked it of me. That night, they did. They woke me early in the morning, before the sun had even begun to rise. They told me they were going to start a new era, they were going to change the world - at least my world. When they killed the first wolf - oh it was terrible. He was just a young lad, barely a year I suspect. He looked just like me, only smaller - frailer. I told them they shouldn't have, told them there didn't have to be blood. They laughed at me, mocked me. I tried to leave them, they fought to keep me there. The one that tried to stop me, he nearly took my eye. I got away, my father didn't." He felt his body shaking involuntarily, as if it were trying to physically shake the memory from his frame. "They took your family, they took mine too." His body quaked again, anger rising in his chest. "If they were here now I'd rip them in two." An ivory set of fangs flashed in the sunlight. "Punish me if you must, my lady. I do not deny my sins." He stood slowly, belly dripping with water. "But when you're through, if you'll have me, I swear my fealty and every ounce that's left of me to your cause - whatever it may be." A determined glean took over his mask, there was no hint of wavering in his tone. Aeryc Seaborn would take whatever she dealt him and pledge whatever was left to her. "Talk" "You" Think

The man seemed lost within his memory, and Raisa watch with mild fascination as true anguish played across his features. He seemed fraught with turmoil, and where before he had seemed a large, impressive male, he now seemed somewhat frail. Had he not bore the scars of the night that shattered her world, Raisa might have stepped forward to comfort him. Her question seemed to break him away, and his affirmation was all she needed to make up her mind, or so it had seemed. She was but seconds from baiting him to the shore, from facing him down with all the vengeance of those who had died for his cause... But then the man began to speak. With every word the hard edges of the wall Raisa had so rapidly thrown up began to soften. For all that he was on the wrong side of the lines... It seemed as if he were just as much a victim as she. She could not trust his words at face value, of course not, but the longer he went on the more her instincts led her away from the darker possibilities. "Punish me if you must," he said. Raisa could hardly believe her ears. "I do not deny my sins." The anger washed from the Queen's set shoulders, as did her fear. Only the strongest of men could allow themselves weakness, especially in times such as these. What was more surprising yet, he offered her his fealty. Raisa could not keep the surprise from her eyes, though she did not let it play across her face. She took a long moment to digest everything he had said. It was not her way to blindly accept what she was told, not anymore. And yet... Was it really so hard to consider that those who had overthrown her family's legacy might have been as cruel to their subjects as they had been to hers? Finally, the sooty queen sighed. "Aeryc, we are a rare breed, you and I," she said by way of beginning. Her voice was soft and quiet, feigning a calm to cover her roiling emotions. "You and I have seen the truest terrors this world can offer. I remember... The savagery. The cries. The blood of knights and pups alike." She shook her head, viciously trying to rid herself of the memory. She came up to look at him, a hard sort of sadness dominating her visage. "I've changed. I know that. The Old Ebony and it's laws mean nothing here. Fuck the past, fuck everything those bastards did. If you've truly fought your way out, if you're seeking a home, I will gladly take you in." She sighed, and cast her eyes across the lake. "But know that I've worked hard for this. If I get even the slightest suspicion of deceit, any reason to doubt your intentions," she said with a sideways glance, "I will tear you apart." She let her words sink in, wondering what he would make of them. "Talk" "You" Think

Her moments of deliberation were lengthy. It seemed as if every second lasted a million, as if every minute drug on longer than the one before it. His chest ached, a deep sort of ache that meant only grief and pain. He breathed a silent breath, then another, and another until the grief washed away from him - temporarily of course. Her voice split the air, calling out his name - sending a shiver down his spine. Perhaps she was about to declare his death. Perhaps he deserved it. Who was he to think she would believe him? What on earth would make her believe him? Nothing, he surmised. But she continued, calling them both a rare breed. That was.. unexpected. She remembered the terrors of that night, uttering words that only brought back visions to his mind. Damn the flashbacks. He wished they would leave him forever - though something told him it did him good to remember the horror. He was the man he was today because of those memories. Her words grew harder and came faster, flooding his ears with her pain, her fury. But then she said something he hadn't expected. She would take him in. She would accept him. This acceptance didn't come without warning, and in an instant he was nodding his head in agreement. "I would have it no other way," he tagged on with absolute sincerity. A wag began at the base of his tail, radiating to the far reaches of the appendage in seconds. "My allegiance is yours, my Queen. Do with it as you wish." He was her canvas to paint as she saw fit, it was the least he could offer her. His wet fur ceased its noisy dripping into the lake, choosing instead to cling to the contours of his underside. Tail continued to wave behind him neatly, like a banner. The smallest of smiles grew upon his features as he yearned for the future, for the beginning of his long-term reconciliation with perhaps the last surviving Xanilov. "Talk" "You" Think

Aeryc would appear to find her terms acceptable and, while she could not help but a remain the smallest bit nervous, she relaxed. It was hard to be wary of one who professed to hand themselves over so readily, and in the past year she had learned to trust her instinct. It raised not contest to this decision, and so it was that the Queen accepted him. He bid her do as she would with him and she grinned, well, wolfishly. "Oh, I plan to." She chuckled, grieving for the easy acquaintance he had shown just moments ago. "Aeryc Seaborn, I name you Ebon Knight of the New Ebony. Just as you would lay your life down for me, I will do the same for you." She walked towards him, towards the shoreline, and bumped his shoulder as she passed. "Welcome to the family." Making her way towards the sand and stone once more, the queen could not help but wonder at all the chance encounters she'd been having these past few weeks. Didn't anyone have anything better to do than pester her? It would seem not, though she could not find it within her to complain, knowing that every addition made them all that much stronger. "Talk" "You" Think OOC: End maybe? Also I can't edit Aeryc's profile, so if you could make him an Ebon Knight that would be stupendous.