Parce Qu'ils Croient

It hadn’t been long into his conversation with Absinth that the semi-pleasant day had taken a turn for the worst. As they had trailed their way through the winter barren trees and evergreens, the overcast sky had taken on a more sinister appearance. The sound was mostly protected by the looming cliffsides, but even still, the wind coming off the water maintained a kind of force that signaled the eminent approach of nasty weather. The temporary shelter he had found was nearly on the opposite end of the valley. However, just as the first chunks of ice had begun to fall, a fairly deep overhang presented itself on the side of an otherwise flat-faced bluff. Luckily, it would provide more than enough coverage to safely wait out the sudden shift in weather.

As to what they were going to do as the hail storm raged, he wasn't entirely sure. Though, he wasn't too interested in sitting quietly in the dark with his paws crossed. "We didn't get to finish our fight." Aresenn casually mused, not really looking in the monochromatic fae's direction. He had hoped to catch her off guard in a similar fashion that she had managed with him. As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, he lunged at her with the intention of coming down on her back with his forearms- much as a child would do when first learning how to spar. But this wasn't necessarily something he meant to be taken seriously. Even still, if he could force her to the ground for real this time, he would certainly call that a win.

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"Aresenn Praetor"