what's left of me

Her pups had been out and about for only a few minutes--having disappeared into the mangroves, pursued by her verbal warning to stay out of trouble and in the borders--only a couple of minutes before the beckoning howl from an old friend graced her ears. Jupiter had sent Mercury along to stealthily watch them without their knowledge and knew he would call should there be trouble, and yet she could not stifle the worry that sprung forth when she heard Gerhardt's summons. Had they wandered outside of the borders, only to be caught by the Seracian king? But they couldn't make it across the very shallow part of the river she'd show them and then to the borders, could they? There hadn't been much rain, causing the river to only laxly meander, so that couldn't possibly be it.



Regardless, she set out to meet him, taking up a steady pace that she'd finally been able to upkeep since her soreness had faded. Now she only needed to be cautious of the wounds that would finish up their healing soon. There was no need to reopen the injuries just as she was about to be rid of them, especially with the possibility of war upon their head.



As she headed toward the source of the call, she couldn't help but growl to herself with contempt. After a few days worth of contemplation she'd come to realize that the words that she swore he'd uttered hadn't been a coincidence or a figment of her imagination--he'd said the he wouldn't have killed her. What a stupid thing to say in a dying breath, she snorted, ears pinned against her skull. I came there to kill him and his little sobbing wasn't going to stop me. Not even his piteous words would have held her at bay should she have not passed them off as her imagination. If he'd had an inability to kill should he have bested her, that would have been his own damn problem, and she would have come for his head until she had taken his life once and for all.



Without realizing it, she'd neared him in her mocking thoughts and realized it only when the queen heard his voice. She tilted her head with confusion, snapping a twig or two as she came forth and into view a few seconds after her purposefully-created noise. The woman, too busy taking in Gerhardt's own scent, didn't take any notice of the bird perched in the mangroves.



"You're a bit young to be talking to yourself, don't you think, Gerhardt?" she chuckled, tone good-natured and ears forward. After analyzing him for a moment, though, the celestial fae's audits tipped back. Something was off--everything about him seemed almost... off. Different. Unusual. The woman held her tongue, though, not wishing to be rude or pry. She remembered him speaking to her about the separation of he and his wife, but hadn't heard anything of it since so she assumed it wasn't that. Thoughts wandered back and she couldn't recall any howls ringing out in the battlefield. Or had she missed some? Had the King lost Seracia? Concerned orbs remained intent on the brute as she patiently sought an answer.

"speech"