Absinth stirred in the predawn light, her mind sharpening quickly as she moved with purpose through the den, stretching out her limbs, her ivory coat rippling over her musculature. Her gaze fell upon her sleeping pups, each one a precious extension of her own ruthless nature. She sought out Indica, her little Inky, her analytical mind already formulating the lesson she would impart to him today. She did enjoy focusing on them one at a time when it suited her.

“Inky,” She murmured, her voice a blend of gentleness and authority as she nudged him with her nose. “Come with me, darling.” She did not give him long to rouse before she was on the move again.

As she stepped out into the cool morning air, Absinth inhaled deeply, savoring the scents of the breeze. She paused there, listening to her ravens greet her, and then the monochromatic woman was off. She led Inky deeper into the wintery forest, moving silently, the soft sounds of the wild and the birds above their only accompaniment. They walked in silence for a while, the forest around them waking with the dawn. Absinth led him to a secluded clearing, a place where the early light filtered through the trees in dappled patterns. Their usual meeting spot for lessons and whatnot. She turned to face him, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and severity.

“The ravens. Are they our pets, or our allies?” She said, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. This was a question with only one correct answer.

wormwood

Dreams came readily to the young boy, manifesting upon his features as twitching whiskers and flexing toes as he slept through the early hours of the morning. With the breaking of dawn came the gentle pressure of a large muzzle against his downy-soft flank, an utterance of his name accompanied by a beckoning. Never one to ignore his mother's whims, the young male roused himself as quickly as he could. Blinking sleep from bleary, glazed eyes and fighting to regain the control of his stumpy little legs, he followed the pale fae away from the den. The frigid climes of the north were hardly welcoming to a little boy, but he was strong and so he bore the harsh sting of the air without a word of complaint. The tremble of his legs or the odd sniffle was inescapable, of course. They betrayed his youthful weakness. He accepted the quiet that fell between himself and his mother, and dared not break it. Only the ravens overhead permeated the silence, their croaks and craws and cries filtering through the canopy. Amidst their cacophony, the subtle creak of branches in the late winter breeze, the rustle of undergrowth as little, unseen creatures stirred in the early morning light. When they stopped in the small clearing, mist clinging low to the ground and frost forming a solid layer over the snow that they broke through with each step, he understood that there was some type of lesson today. Just for him, not for anyone else. In a small way, it made him feel special. His mama wanted to teach something to just Inky. So he stepped up close, just close enough to steal some of the heat that radiated through her pelage. Held her gaze with a brimming curiosity that burned in his not-yet-sage eyes. Heard her speak, addressing the masses of feathered harbingers that gathered in vast number throughout the Sound. She asked what these creatures were to them, were they pets- things to be tended to, things to own- or were they allies- closely tied, willing to provide aid and assistance when called upon. Perhaps it was some dim recollection from gestation, memories that faded more and more with the days that passed since his birth. Muffled croaking, a distant series of raucous cries audible in a world that was entirely blind. To Indica, neither word was appropriate. Had the query been offered in the coming weeks or months, perhaps he would have more words with which to articulate his sense of the relationship between the wolves and the ravens. Allies they were not, for the term was too distant, impersonal, detached. But in his young mind, the boy was more limited. He knew that there was not enough love in the word for what the ravens meant to him, lingering on the fringes of his every living, breathing moment. So he frowned, a small furrow in his brow. He thought on it for a few more moments, before he decided on what word he liked better. "Um," he hesitated, sleep still making his voice a little hoarse. "they're my friends." he said, though there wasn't the authority and decisiveness clinging to his vocals that his mother carried. Not yet. He still had much to learn. Blue-green eyes drifted away from his mother, tracking the motions of the corvids as they moved through the air far above him. "speech"

Absinth watched her son with a discerning eye, noting the earnestness in his expression and the sincerity in his response. She allowed a small, truly rare smile to grace her features, a gesture so warm it held both approval and a silent promise of further lessons. He was by far, the most interested in the corvids of all her children.

“Indica, my little one, your heart is in the right place,” She began, her tone softening just a fraction. “Friends, indeed, can be a part of our allies. They are more than mere pets, more than creatures to command. They are our watchers, our eyes in the sky, and they aid us because we respect them and their place in our world.” Truly, Absinth adored her birds. They were a great part of her childhood, picking at carcasses, preening each other and mourning losses, chattering at their loved ones; all things she never had for herself but had always observed.

She took a step closer, her breath visible in the cold morning air as it mingled with his. “Remember this, Indica: True strength lies not only in your might but in the bonds you form. These ravens, our friends as you say, choose to be with us. They are not bound by chains or force, but by mutual understanding. They help us because we help them, and that is the foundation of a strong alliance.”

Her gaze shifted upward, watching a raven as it circled above them, its dark form of great contrast against the pale winter sky. “Respect them, cherish them, but also understand their role and their freedom. They are not pets, for pets are subservient. They are allies, bound to us by choice and necessity. They may leave at any time, they have history and tales to tell, they have love and loss themselves; just as we do.”

She turned her attention back to Indica, her eyes gleaming with pride and calculation. “You are learning, my dear. And one day, you will understand fully.” She leaned down to nuzzle the boy, to share her warmth, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she rose again to meet his eyes. “Any questions, my Inky?”



wormwood

There was a great upwelling of delight within the meagre confines of his chest as his mother pressed close, sharing her own warmth and affirming his bonds with the ravens. His thin, scraggly little tail wagged lightly as she agreed that he was on the right track with his belief that the ravens were his friends, more than just inhabitants of the woods. She explained that friends were often included within the boundaries of allyship, and that the ravens were not simple pets that followed their commands. As he'd been slowly piecing together over the past days and weeks, the ravens served as eyes in the sky and guardians of one type or another as a direct result of their shared bonds. His mother was even closer to him now, locking eyes with him and forcing his attention to fixate on this singular moment, this brief span within the grand forwards march of time. A reminder of his last lesson, on the importance of strength as a conduit to his continued existence. She told him, quite forcefully, that the truest form of strength relied not only on himself and his own abilities, but on the bonds that he forged over the months and years to come. That the ravens were not bound by any physical force or threat, but by the affection and rewards that came with maintaining their relationship. Coexistence and mutual success. The darkling followed her gaze upwards to the silhouette of a raven crossing overhead, and he wriggled with delight at the sight of it. His mother continued to speak, to impart the importance and value of their relationship with the immense flock- the vast unkindness that followed them about the landscape. The ravens were their own entities, just as the wolves were. With families and friends and stories and love, just like he had. He nodded sagely as his mother lowered her gaze back to him, fathomless pools of emerald that enthralled him as readily as any lesson. As she stooped to gently nuzzle him, he graciously accepted the affection. Teeth flashing with an unabashed grin, eyes gleaming with excitement. She assured him that he was still learning, and he knew it meant more than just learning about the ravens. Indica was still learning about the world at large, about his place in it, and the way he would find himself navigating its complexities. Then she asked the fateful question, doomed herself to a potential torrent of enquiry. He hummed thoughtfully, the sound droning for a moment or two before he could find a way to vocalize his many thoughts. "Do.. do you have any ravens that are your most special friends? That like to spend more time with you than some of the others?" he questioned softly, eyes adrift and tracing the motions and exchanges of the corvids overhead. "How do you recognize all of the different ones? Some of them have little bits of white, or strange eyes, and I've seen some who've got scars like you or papa. But what about the ones that don't?" the font of curiosity overflowed, the young boy was in his element- interrogation. "speech"

At his thoughtful hum and the questions that followed, Absinth's smile widened. Her tail swished gently behind her as she leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Oh yes," She said, her tone a purr of amusement, "There are two that started it all, the ones who told their family and friends I was worthy of their devotion. Their names are Vita and Amos. I befriended them seasons ago, after spending my youth watching them from the gutters of my homeland. They gave me glimpses into family, into having bonds with other souls."

As if on cue, two ravens descended from the canopy, their wings fluttering gracefully as they landed near the wolves. Their beaks parted, and they croaked out familiar words, "Lady Absinth," and "RavenKin." Though they appeared as ordinary ravens, their bond with Absinth was unmistakable.

"For those who look similar," She continued, her gaze shifting between the two birds, "It's in the way they fly, the sounds they make, their habits. Over time, you learn to recognize these subtle differences." Just as she spoke, Vita hopped forward, clicking her beak a few times in a distinctive pattern, while Amos stayed back, his head bobbing low to the ground in his own unique manner.

Absinth's eyes softened as she watched the ravens, her posture relaxed but attentive. She turned back to Indica, her voice firm yet instructive. "See how they move, how they communicate? Each one has its own way of expressing itself. With patience and observation, you'll come to know them as well as I do."

"Absinth Artemisia Inferos"

She leaned close, her features sparkling with bemusement as she assured him that there were some ravens who were special to her. There was an undeniable undercurrent of fondness as she recounted the origin of her ties to two particular ravens, Vita and Amos, who had become her friends longer ago than he had been alive. Who had let her join their enormous family as one of their own, and taught her the values of being close with others. The boy's eyes lit up, silvery sage wide with delight. When a pair of kohl dark birds descended from the treetops a few moments later, they greeted his mother by name and title. They lingered nearby, and he couldn't help but be transfixed. None of the ravens let him get this close for very long, he was too curious and overbearing. This time, he was practically vibrating with excitement but managed to contain himself. Sitting still as he could manage at his mother's side, watching the corvids move and communicate. As his mother answered his next series of demanding queries, he flicked his ears in her direction to take it in, but couldn't tear his gaze away from the sharp movements of the ravens. Trying to make note of the differences in their movements as his mother explained them, and what traits set the birds apart. Flying, communicating, moving on the ground. The two ravens before him certainly moved differently, one of them bold enough to draw closer while the other hung back and observed the wolves with a bobbing head. Unconsciously the boy tried to mirror the motion, but his neck wasn't quite so mobile as to perfectly mimic the fluidity of the low undulating pattern. And then the attention was on him, he lifted his face to stare up at his mother as she asked him if he understood. If he saw the ravens like she did. He hesitated. He could see that they were unique, that they were individual entities as much as they were a portion of an immense whole, but did he truly see? He nodded his head slowly, eyes flicking back to the pair of ravens nearby. Absinth promised that soon enough he would be able to tell them all apart, it would just be a waiting game of watching them all interact. Indica was determined to integrate himself into the murder as soon as he could, he craved the oneness that they had. There was a lingering, nagging flood of curiosity that threatened to break away and tumble from his jaws. He needed to ask more. "How will I know when they love me like you? Will some of the ravens choose me, like Vita and Amos? I want to have friends like them, too." his voice was soft, reverent in the chill of dawn, vocals escaping his jaws in a cloud of mist that obscured his features as the font of inquisition was unleashed. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the birds again, gaze roving from the pair on the ground to those overhead, to the branches of the trees all around them. To be surrounded but not included was a vexation he did not seek to entertain for very long. "speech"