Where the trees met the estuary is where Calliope had deemed home. From her position close to the shore, she could hear the lapping of waves and even see the spires of Hearthstone. Away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of Raider territory, she enjoyed her peace and quiet. Perhaps now though, it wouldn't be quiet. Leading the smaller girl to her sanctuary had the titan nervous. While she had shared many a night with various lovers, Calliope had never brought anyone back here. No one except her family knew she resided here and she wasn't even sure all of them actually knew the exact location.

The ground was not quite muddy here yet, more ravine than estuary. Birds milled around, pecking at sand and grass, eagerly looking for bugs before the cold began to sweep in. "Don't lollygag," Calliope snapped over her shoulder, fur bristling as she drew them closer to her carefully made abode. Just on the other side of a dune with a tree supporting the backside of dirt and sand, an opening large enough for Calliope to fit through appeared. Unless one was on the beach, no one would actually know it was there. Long, sweeping branches hung low, nearly touching the top of the entrance, easily hiding the beach and water. She had spent hours upon hours searching for the perfect location to hide away from the world, and now Finch would be the first to really see it.

Stopping just outside of the entrance, she looks down upon the girl she has spent the past few weeks with. Admittedly, Finch was growing on her, but she refused to let any softness show. Calliope would be anything but weak. "This is home," she lifts a paw, sweeping it in front of the entrance covered by a makeshift door made of pine and oak boughs. The dried leaves rustled in the salty breeze that always calmed her every worry. "The plains toward the northwest is where we keep livestock. The moor to the north is where some of the pack resides and our healers tend to their gardens. And the ravine that we walked through to get here is where the rest of the pack lives within the trees. You're free to explore and wander anywhere the Raiders are, but don't trust everyone you cross." A brow lifts, that silent warning clear that if Finch were to go alone, Calliope would not be able to protect her.

"Make sure you're back here by dusk every night or reap the consequences," her lips lift, a snarling smirk lining her pale lips as she steps closer to Finch, lowering her head down near the girl's ear. "Ready to make yourself at home?" Calliope whispers sickly sweet before letting out a chuckle and turning to open the branched entrance for Finch to enter through.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Finch was quiet most of the way back to Raider territory. She had wanted to speak up when Calliope had found her off shore of the Kamui Delta after she'd had that strange... encounter... but her thoughts had still been a jumbled mess. Was there a sickness spreading across the land? Would she catch it? Her tongue had been glued to the roof of her mouth ever since, not that Calliope had seemed to notice too much. Finch felt more and more like a shiny bauble for the bigger girl to possess: something to be looked at, maybe handled carefully, then put on a shelf and perhaps forgotten about. Not even admired from time to time. It was a strange feeling, to be kept. Would the novelty wear off eventually?

Don't lollygag. She glanced up, unaware that her steps had been trailing. Finch was consumed with thoughts of sickness and death and her paws had slowed accordingly, but Calliope didn't suffer any attitude. She'd learned that quickly enough. Nonetheless, she was tired, and it took some mustering to pick up the pace as they pulled up towards the den. She listened patiently to Calliope's explanation, her eyes flicking back and forth across the lands as she named their purpose and direction. It would take time to get her bearings, but her "master" was thorough in her explanation. "Right," she licked her dry lips, her voice a little hoarse from disuse over their journey,"Consequences."

When Calliope opened the entryway for her, Finch sidled through slowly. It was peaceful here. She could focus on that much, at least. Calliope had chosen her home well, with a calming view of the sea and close enough that the sounds of the waves lapping at the shoreline would surely lull her to sleep. To sleep... yes, they'd have to share this space, which was clearly designed for one. Finch glanced around. The den, although spacious, was not the more sprawling family warrens she was used to. There would be no hiding from her in here. She groped for something useful to say that wouldn't trigger Calliope's temper, but she was so, so tired. "Your home is beautiful," she said softly, real honesty in her words. By the sea was a lovely place to live - and she hadn't seen the ocean in so long, since she'd attended that festival at the Hallows. The sight still amazed her.

Finch slumped against the back wall of the den, her legs nearly vibrating with exhaustion. Calliope had set the pace on this journey and she was a head and a half taller - each limb was stone-heavy from exertion. She pressed her cheek against the cool wall of the den, weighing her options. Did she tell Calliope about what she had seen at the delta? Who else did she even have to talk to? Maybe come morning she could track down her mother's cousin, Sparrow, but they'd never met. This far away from home, Callie was all she had. "I saw something... while we were resting before beginning our journey here," Finch murmured. "It was terrible. There might be a disease beginning to spread across Boreas, but I'm not certain. I have a feeling everything that we've seen is connected," she closed her eyes, as if by shutting them she could unhear her own words. "I'm frightened." Would she laugh at her? Finch wasn't sure she could bear that. Calliope was a lot of things - brash, unpredictable, rude... but she was brave where Finch was not. That had to count for something. Be worth something.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

While the interior of Calliope's den was not splendid, it was at least comfortable. Dim lighting illuminated by the setting sun across the water and various pelts lay around for somewhere to sleep. Even a small hearth off to the side during the colder months - not that it ever really got that cold, but it came in handy. One large room, hardly any trinkets (Calliope was more a keeper of wolves than inanimate objects), just enough for her and now Finch. She supposed she would let Finch add some touches to it if the girl ended up staying.

Following the smaller female into the interior, Calliope only huffed a response to the compliment. Beautiful. Inwardly, she was proud and beamed, but her expression said little. Exhaustion riddled her own body as she padded along behind Finch toward the back where the thickest and softest of the furs were. "You do not need to be uncomfortable while you are here," Calliope commented off handedly as she plopped herself down on said furs and raised a silent brow as she stared at the trembling girl. Really, she may be a horrible wolf, but she wasn't cruel like that. Her captives would at least be cared for to the best of her abilities.

Laying her chin upon her paws, she watches Finch. Secretly admires her from afar. Almost itches to curl around the girl, warm her weary bones, but keeps her distance. While their journey and relationship was strained, she could feel herself adjusting and getting used to the chatty know-it-all. Calliope's ears even flickered forward to listen to Finch's soft murmurs about the terrible sight she saw near the delta while she had been bathing in the hot springs. Her brows narrow, confusion and concern glancing over her expression before she looks out to the doorway where the sea can be seen through the makeshift door.

It takes Calliope a moment to respond. She thinks, calculating, pondering what best to say to the girl's response. Not that Calliope had any better idea than Finch about any of this. Disease was spreading. Spires were rising. The sky was still painted a deep, malicious red. For as nasty as a wolf as she was, the happenings were unsettling even for herself. Bravery was merely a mask at this point to hide her own fear.

Inhaling deeply, she closes her pastel gaze for a moment as she exhales. "I do not believe anyone is certain, but what I do believe is that everyone is frightened," her own deepened tones were gentle, vulnerable. Here, in her den, her home, she could be... different. Not the Calliope that everyone knew. Turning her chin slightly to look back at Finch, she feels her breath catch in her throat for a moment.

"Speech"

She let the sound of the waves lapping at the shore wash over her. Finch could feel Calliope's gaze on her like a brand from across the den, and she averted her eyes accordingly. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the woman yet - still needed time to figure her out like a puzzle. Every word she spoke now was more careful and measured than it had been before, but it didn't mean her nerves weren't frayed after what she'd seen. The wretched sound of that poor soul's skull as it had cracked as easily as a pumpkin on the ground, spilling forth just as much innards as a gourd might. What were these worms, anyway, but strange, sickly little seeds?

I do believe everyone is frightened. Finch relaxed some at her words, an unexpected tenderness to her words. It soothed her, just like the constant sound of the ocean outside. She let out a small, soft breath and lurched clumsily to her paws. Everything was sore after walking so long, maybe it would feel good to surrender herself to the softness: of the furs, of Calliope. She approached her with all of the same care that you would a wild animal, her steps slow and measured so that Calliope would see her coming and know her intentions. There was no room for mistaking her goal. Eventually, Finch stepped paw on the soft furs and let out an audible groan of satisfaction. Much, much softer than she'd expected. Slowly, she sank to her haunches and then stretched out her forelegs until she laid by Calliope's side.

The young girl held her breath at first, not quite sure what to expect from Calliope. She was... unpredictable, at best. Would this be welcome, or would she turn her out into the cool night? Finch hunkered down deeper into the furs. Her appetite had been waning the last few days, and she was getting a little itchy, but that could be from the grime and stress of travel. Nothing to worry about (right?).

"This stranger was infected by... something. A parasite. His body was completely ravaged and filled with worms," she hissed, an acrid note of disgust in her voice. "His head cracked open right in front of me. It wasn't really the gore that scared me, but the way he seemed completely lost to himself. Like he had absolutely no idea who, or where he was... To lose yourself like that, so completely..." Finch shuddered, subconsciously shifting closer to Calliope. "It's the worst fate I could imagine. And I don't know how to fix that. How to cure... that," she ended softly, turning her vivid green eyes to Calliope at last. The pied female might be her jailer, but she was all Finch had for comfort in these strange times. If she was home in Avalon, she'd have to put on a brave face for her father and Jay - or at least she'd want to. Here with Calliope, she could be afraid. Maybe that was a gift.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Surprise colored her features as Finch slowly moved over to lay beside her. The predatory glimpse in her gaze was not hidden, but rather obvious as it roved over the smaller girl's frame. Calliope tenses for a moment, the proximity at which they lay was not unusual, but also not something she was used to. Typically, if she were to be so close to someone like this, it was for sexually charged reasons. This was different. She saw the way Finch trembled. The fear in her eyes. It made her heart twitch in a possessive sort of way. Finch was hers now and knowing that something was upsetting her made Calliope all the more furious.

Once Finch is settled, Calliope exhales slowly, taking a soft approach. Her eyes close gently, her massive frame moving around Finch, encircling the girl in a cuddling gesture. Resting her chin upon her paws, she listens genuinely to what Finch says. The girl may be sassy, but she is also intelligent. It would be ignorant of Calliope to take what the girl said at face value.

He was infected by a parasite? Ravaged and filled with worms. A nightmare threatened to rise in Calliope's mind. Images of that devilish worm that had scarred her chest threatened to traumatize her once more. Was it all connected? Could it be that those worms were real? As if they weren't some terrible nightmare that could cause real, physical harm? Her mouth dries, her throat constricting as she harshly swallows the lump lodged in her throat. She worried for Finch. Had she touched him? Would she help spread this sickness? Calliope's body tightens visibly, fighting the urge to put space between them.

That urge for separation disappears as Finch describes how the wolf's head cracked open before her. The fear and worry in Finch's tone, the way she moves closer to her out of instinct has her eyes opening, surveying Finch. The poor girl. Experiencing something like that after a rather sheltered life... Calliope sighs, her lips tugging down into a frown. She was no good at comforting anyone, not even herself. And what hurt more is that Finch wanted to save them, while Calliope knew there was nothing to be saved. Her nose wrinkles, brow furrowing as she thinks of something to say. Silence looms over them for a moment until her brain finishes processing.

"You cannot cure all. There's no fixing such a disease," Calliope's tone is tense, on edge. She reaches her nose out to touch Finch tenderly on her cheek. It was perhaps the first and only time she's ever shown such a gesture to anyone. "Do not blame yourself for what you saw. That is out of your paws. Focus on yourself. Allowing yourself to succumb to fear will be what leads you to death," she keeps her voice quiet, and while still rough and stilted, she tries to be comforting in the only way she knows. Stern, forward, and straight to the point. "Have you seen others aside from him that appear sick?" Curiosity will kill her, but so will her selfish need to survive. If this means eradicating every animal and wolf that gets sick, so be it.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

She was used to feeling like Calliope's presence dominated from across the room, but it was something else to be right next to her. The hairs on her hackles rose imperceptibly - not for fear or anger, but anxiety. Like a constant exchange of static electricity was passing between them. This feeling was utterly foreign to Finch and she had no idea what to make of it. Was she infected with something? Is this what it felt like?

Silly bird, twice stricken: once by whatever digging in the soil by the Prominence had done to her, then again by Cupid's very pointy little arrow. And boy, did both wounds itch.

Finch stilled for a moment when Calliope curled around her. She even held her breath for a second. It seemed like a latent threat - the same way she'd snaked her head around her at the Prominence, canine teeth so close to her eyes. But after a moment, her fear ebbed, and the closeness turned into what she'd been longing for. Comfort. She drew in a deep breath, surprised to find Calliope's eyes granting her their full and undivided attention. Now that she had her alone, it seemed as if she had turned into a different creature entirely. Still rough and abrasive, quick to jump to conclusions (and, to Finch's delight, her very own defense), but a softer version of the women she'd traveled so far with. This. This I can work with. Was she still scheming an escape plan? Maybe. Did she want to escape? Finch turned her luminous green eyes back to Calliope as she replied to her in tense, quiet tones.

"There's no fixing such a disease." Immediately she wanted to respond: There is! There must be! I just haven't learned how yet! But Calliope silenced anything she might have said with a soft, intimate gesture. Finch's eyes grew glassy and distant as electric feeling raced through her from where Calliope's nose had pressed into her cheek. It was chaste. Something she'd done quite often with her own sister, and her father, but it felt different now. It felt sharper - almost like a weapon. Something dangerous. She nodded dumbly as Calliope continued, too wrapped up in the initial sensation of her touch to reply intelligently at first. Eventually, she said: "How can I succumb to fear when I'm leashed to you? You fear nothing and so... I will try to fear nothing," she rasped, licking her lips. How quickly her mouth had gone dry. Finch coughed softly to hide it.

"No, I haven't seen any others that have been sick in that way. I do worry that all of these quakes could have unearthed something. Things survive for a long time underground that never see the light of day... if they were suddenly exposed to the surface, I'm not sure what could happen. But, please - " She stammered, searching within herself for a shred of confidence, "This evening, could you just help me be brave? I'll worry about the world gone mad tomorrow. I don't want to think about it tonight. Tell me about your life here. My auntie has told me stories about what this used to be - the Pirates, when her cousin Sparrow led. I was so - " Isolated? Uninspired? "So set apart from everything in Avalon. All I have are second and thirdhand accounts of the adventures of wolves I don't even know. Tell me your adventures." With all of the scraps of bravery Finch had left in her, she finally let her body fully relax and press into Calliope's side. Taking a great leap of faith, she lowered her head and rested it upon Calliope's paws that were curved around them both and glanced up at her bashfully. Tiny, Finch-sized steps toward whatever it was she thought she was chasing.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Calliope tried not to think of what the touch of her nose did to herself or Finch. She tried not to look too deeply at the girls' dazed features. Or acknowledge the electricity that zapped between them. Did Finch... find the touch comforting? Is that not what wolves do when someone is upset or scared? Was she doing this wrong? Uncertainty lances over her expression as her ears turn sideways for a moment. Scorning herself for being so foolish, she purposefully scoots her nose away an inch or so, planted firmly on her paws.

A huff sharply exhales from her nostrils at Finch's little outburst. Even a small smirk curls her pale lips. She was trying not to look at Finch, but she can't help it now. Her head rises, eyes turning back to the girl curled neatly at her side. "Silly little bird," Calliope coos, drawing her muzzle within centimeters of the Finch's muzzle. "You only perceive me to fear nothing, but it would be foolish of you to not fear me," the harsh Calliope returns for a moment. Her heart was ablaze and emotions were roiling beneath her skin. Deep down, she knows it's a weakness, but to know that someone doesn't fear her also scares her. Letting anyone in was a no-go.

At the sight of Finch licking her lips to disperse the tension, Calliope relaxes. Another huff expels, but softer this time as she pulls away and places her chin back upon her paws. She can't help the confusion that comes with being so close to Finch and interacting with her. Especially as Finch carries on, talking about sickness and survival and the uncertainty of their futures. When she stammers, Calliope's ears perk. Was her little bird growing brave? Both brows raise, impressed as Finch requests help and stories of her life. Adventures. Oh, did she have plenty of those.

Tilting her head to look back at Finch, she smiles. A genuine one this time as she nods to let Finch know she agrees. "When I was but a mere pup, roughly six months old, my siblings, Tarnish and Suduri, and I were out adventuring through the archipelago. On one of the islands, we came across a rogue adult male who was anything but nice. He saw us as food and we saw him as danger. It was probably the first time that I ever felt scared, but seeing my siblings in trouble made me forget about it. I knew I had to do something. We called for our father, but it would take him time to cross the water. So to save ourselves, we gave that mongrel everything we had. Even ended up hiding in the roots of a mangrove as he tore at the roots and swiped at us until our father appeared. It felt like ages, staring at that frenzied wolf attempting to kill us. If our father hadn't shown up, we would've been food, but he did. He ripped that wolf to shreds right in front of our eyes and then told us to take a trophy afterward. See that tooth right there? That's one of his canines."

She nods her nose toward a little shelf made from rotted wood that holds a variety of trinkets. One such tooth glistened in the evening light. "When I ripped it from his mouth and smiled at my father, I knew from then on I would never let anyone take advantage of me or decide my fate. I will die when I want to die." her lips settle into a firm line as she finishes her story. No glory, no satisfaction, just the truth. Was Finch impressed? Glancing at her little bird, she wonders if only for a moment if that would make her happy to know that Finch found her admirable.

"Speech"

"It would be foolish of you not fear me." Finch's heart began to race again as Calliope placed her muzzle within a whisker of Finch's own. This must be fear. It was terror, pouring through her veins, making her feel lightheaded and a touch dizzy. For a moment, she parts her lips to say it: I am afraid of you. But as soon as she does, the tension evaporates with another huff from Calliope and she pulls away. With the distance between them reset, Finch's heart slows its gallop, but her veins still burned hot with some unidentified, mercurial feeling. If only she could put a name to it...

Finally, Calliope gives her something else to focus on: a story. Finch gave her rapt attention, hanging on every word that came from her pastel princess' mouth. She loved a good story - and this one was excellent. She'd always thought one day that she might get to have a great adventure of her own, had dreamed about it and yearned after it, and here was Calliope: a creature made entirely of it. Crafted from battle scars and baptized in blood. The tale she pun was a wilder story than anything she'd ever gotten up to in Avalon. The scariest thing Finch had ever experienced before being dragged across the continent by Calliope was get told off for eating too many apples at harvest time. She couldn't even conceive of being so young - six months old! - and fighting for her life.

"That's incredible," she breathed, her eyes almost child-like with how wide they grew. Impressed was an understatement. "You three were so brave. I can't imagine what I would have done in a similar situation..." Her brows stitched together. Before Calliope, she'd never even been verbally insulted, much less had to fight for life. Tooth and claw. Blood for blood. What would she do in a situation like that? "I suppose I don't really know what I'd do. You must only really find out what you're made of when your back is against the wall, and the only way through is forward," she mused idly. Finch couldn't picture what that might look like for her, of course. The worst thing that had ever happened to her was her mother dying (and while her heart still ached for her), that sort of thing came for everyone eventually. Even Calliope, brave as she seemed, admitted it: she would die. But it would be on her terms.

Fatigue still bit down deep, straight to the bone, but laying next to Calliope was helping. Heat emanated from the bigger girl, and Finch allowed herself to relish in the feeling of being tucked away beside her. There was something comforting about it, the difference in size, that feeling of being enclosed fully by the other body around her. "I like that. That you control your own fate. It's powerful," she whispered, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and that other, foreign feeling. "Sometimes I feel like everything my life so far has just... happened to me," Finch continued, "and that I stood by and watched it all. Didn't have a say in it. You would never do that." Twig's death had happened to her. Calliope had happened to her, spirited her away from Avalon, and Finch had simply went.

Even as her heart longed for home, the comfort of the den she shared with her sister and the familiar smell of the orchard after rain, this was the most interesting thing that had ever happened to her. If she lingered long enough, she might start to have a say in whatever happened next. Finch peered up at Calliope, weighing her next sentence carefully. "Why did you snatch me, anyway? I'm just a little bird. You can find one of those anywhere - and I know you're a capable hunter." An innocent, leading question, followed by a compliment. If she could wring more information out of Cal about her intentions, maybe she could formulate a plan. Maybe she would have a say in what happened next in her life.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma