Through The Dark Side

Relm's subtle movements that acknowledged his presence would likely have been missed by many. Alastor noticed it though, a side effect from a lifetime of having to watch for subtle cues and body language just to stay alive. The turn of her cheek towards him, while wordless, greeted him as much as if she'd said the words herself. She did not though. Relm said nothing, simply staring down at her distorted reflection in the rippling black water. Alastor saw the tension in her rigid form, the unease and withdrawal within herself. Relm was keeping something tucked away inside. Alastor didn't pry—at least not right away. He watched Relm as she lifted a paw to fidget with the knotted strings of her cloak, but didn't let the fabric fall away from her like she had done with him before. She was hiding herself away again. Alastor's frown deepened, creases forming in his brow while he studied the young woman. What was she hiding from him?

Relm was the first to speak. The ebony and pink fae declared that she shouldn't be here. That could have multiple contexts given the history he knew of the Abraxas woman. She shouldn't be at the lake? She shouldn't be in Elysium? She shouldn't be with Alastor right now? She shouldn't be alive? Alastor reasoned that all four might have played a part in her statement, and yet all four were equally as wrong. Alastor strode through the icy water to draw closer to Relm, seeing the glowing pink tear fall from her silver eyes to vanish into the lake around her belly. "Neither should I," he agreed in his usual rumbling tones. A large paw lifted, water sluicing from his digits in tiny waterfalls while he reached towards her face with the intent to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Yet here we are." Alastor and Relm had the odds stacked against then since their birth. They had both defied them, thrived where they should have perished, pressed on when they should have broken. Relm was an incredibly strong fighter—which was why to see her in this state, Alastor knew something was terribly wrong. Somebody had hurt Relm, physically or emotionally.

Gazing down at Relm, Alastor frowned while he tried to look her over. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do so by moonlight, but he'd make due. The night was far easier on his melanistic eyes anyway. He didn't see anything immediately—which meant she was hiding any physical injuries beneath her cloak. "Show me." The dire brute gestured with his muzzle to her neck, where her paw had been rubbing and pressing just moments ago. Without waiting for her to do so herself, Alastor raised his paw and moved to grasp the strings of her cloak. He aimed to untie her cloak, just enough to let it fall down across her back and reveal her neck down to her upper chest. Something was bothering Relm and he would find out what it was and rectify it if he could.


"Alastor"