Creaking joints and aching muscles. The swim had done a number on Adhara. She didn't have the energy to carry herself as she usually did. No, while usually quite the proud beast, she's tired. How long had she even been here, yet? Barely days. Yesterday? The day before? Something like that. More and more distance between the woman and the raider that she'd been for so long. She'd put as much distance between that period in time and herself as possible. This was about starting over. This was about starting fresh. When your own band betrays you and a rift like that one forms... well, no one was going to get out unscathed. That much was for certain. In reality, it was likely a stroke of luck and skill combined that had kept Adhara alive in the end. Self preservation above all, the creature had fled into the sea. At least she still has her life, right? The Woods stretched tall around her, casting long shadows. Night would fall soon, and Adhara considered tucking herself away among their shelter for the evening. It wasn't a bad choice, and the chances that she'd be found by anyone unsavory were slim. Hell, it wasn't like anyone could really see her among them, at least if they weren't looking closely. Dusk pulled around her shoulders like a comfortable, familiar blanket. Adhara carefully tucked herself into the gnarled roots at the base of one of the willows, her back protected by the broad tree. She'd make herself as small as possible and hide away here in the safety of the evening.

It was evening, and Marshal, his father bird, was restless. The Warlord had never seen the stoic creature act in a manner other than perfect obedience for as long as he could remember. But as the raptor shifted from tree to tree in agitation, the Warlord knew he wouldn’t be settling down for the night, not yet.

The Warlord wasn’t sure if even Marshal knew what bothered him. But the instincts of a warrior weren’t to be ignored. “Come on, old friend. Let's take a walk, see if we can shake loose what's bothering you.” he said softly, and waited for Marshal to settle into the nape of his neck.

The old warrior resisted the urge to sigh, his day had begun earlier, and might well go on for a while yet. Together, Warlord and raptor walked from Armada territory and into the woods as evening grew long around them. The tiger and the bear melded into the shadows somewhere behind them. A familiar, unobtrusive presence.

The travelling party was quiet for a time, until he could feel Marshal shifting on his back. His curved, deadly, talons biting in his fur. The Warlord squinted into the dusk. “What do you see?” he asked softly.

"Speech"

The sunset around her, at least, was a grand show. Adhara could find peace in that much. Pinks and purples seemed to color the world around her, and the fading sunlight that was playing within the trees. She's reflective as she tucks herself away from the world. Silence is so golden... so incredibly golden. After all this time, it feels foreign. Adhara hasn't been on her own for very long. Maybe she could get used to it. There were certainly far, far worse things to be than simply alone. Silence was golden. And silence was fleeting. No, Adhara knows that she's not truly alone in these woods. There would be others here, and they would come and go... and come, and go. The question was, would they be able to spot her out? If they were able to spot her out, would she be in danger? Fight... flight. Flight... fight. On a day when she had more strength left in her bones, the answer would be an obvious one. When there was more that could drive her forward. When there was more for Adhara to draw from, she'd be happy to fight when threatened. Today, however, it seemed that the well was nearing dry. The swim here had taken a lot from her, and she needed the rest. Fleeing would likely be the option she'd take, if push really did come to shove. Breath held in her lungs, the woman waited. She'd heard a voice, though it was too far to make out exactly what it said. One beat of her heart. Another. Another. From her spot, hidden away among the roots of the willows, Adhara peered out. Who's there? But she doesn't want to give her position away to ask the question, either. It was a waiting game now.

The Warlord sniffed the air, searching for whatever had alerted Marshal on his back. The bird was oddly still now, and silent. As if listening to the very air. The Warlord held his breath, listening to the sounds of the woods. Woods he knew so well, he could feel its lifeblood in his veins. He caught the scent, and realised he had been overlooking it. Missing it. It reminded him of his family, of Azure, and Mortis, and the others of his blood.

Frowning more heavily, the Warlord looked into the thicket beneath the willow, and knew with unshakable certainty that there was something there. With that certainty in his voice, he raised it a little louder. Still barely above a whisper. “I see you.” He said, though that wasn’t quite the truth of it. His senses thrummed with the knowledge that she was there.

"Speech"

The tension hung thick in the air. Heavy. Adhara could have reached out and cut it with a knife, if she cared to. It was a lot... too much. Far too much. Though she was stiff, there was a subtle flexing to her muscles. Hackles too, raised at the back of her neck. It wasn't enough to disturb the vegetation around her and give her away, or at least, she could hope as much. Still, there was... something. There was something here and she didn't know what to think. Not yet. A chess match between Adhara and whoever was out here.

A battle of wits. It seemed, though, that he wasn't unarmed.

The voice that came was... hm. It was strange. Adhara's eyes narrowed, catching a hint of... something. Not altogether foreign, and in a way that left her deeply unsettled. Her stomach pitched. I see you, the words were quiet, but they're clear. He's coming closer. She waits for the cover of the breeze to pick back up. Adhara could hope that the sound of the wind within the willows would be enough to obscure the exact location from which her voice came. "And?" Just one word. Enough of a what of it? but without taking the chance to speak... that much. The tone is silken, that of a courtesan. Trained as she was, Adhara would do her best to appear nonthreatening. She knows better, though she's already on the defensive she does her best to conceal her true feelings in the moment.

"Adhara"

The Warlord found a twitch of a smile on his lips as the enigma that ruffled his senses spoke. “And I thought I’d poke the bear and see if I got eaten.” He said, that same hint of a smile in his words. His brow however was furrowed. There was a hint of an accent in her voice, one that almost put his back up. He would never forget the wolves that had set on him and Deathbelle. The last remains of the Old Empire, out for blood. If she came from his old home, there may very well be bad blood between them.

“So, are you hungry, stranger in the woods?” he asked softly, letting his amused words hide the way his muscles bunched. The readiness in his pose and rigid body. He would defend Deathbelle and all of her ilk until his last breath from any ghosts in their past that might seek to harm them.


"Speech"

And see if I get eaten, Adhara's mind strays for a moment. There had been rumors that they'd stoked, rumors of things far darker than just killing. Rumors of cannibalism... but no, he couldn't know of those. He couldn't be aware, this strange man in the woods. Strange man in the woods at dusk... no. There was no way for him to know. Still, there was something in his voice. Something in the scent that the wind managed to carry in her direction. It's all too much, and her thoughts grew louder by the moment. Thoughts of bad blood and of bloodshed... Adhara is quick of wit and silver of tongue, and yet all she wants to do is rely on her ability to fight. Isn't that fucked?

"I've already eaten." The words are cold. Adhara knows that she's given away her position, and she rises now. There's no way for her to will her hackles back down, so she doesn't bother. Instead, the woman stands tall and proud as she uncurls herself from the base of the tree, stepping out into the fading sunlight. Looks like she'd need to find another place to rest her weary head for the evening, anyway. Any quarrel she has with this man, any bad blood, well it would be best to face it head on. Her gaze darts to him, finally taking in the man for all he is, and her heart nearly stops in her chest.

It was as if Adhara was looking in a mirror, the man's marking reflecting her own. "What the fuck?" A question, more than anything else, as she finally makes eye contact.

"Adhara"

It seemed this stranger he had startled in her resting place was entirely unimpressed with him. Perhaps that was to be expected. A rogue had to maintain a certain leave of caution, with no strength at their back. So he didn’t rise to the bait in her cold words. Instead, he simply watched as she rose from the bushes and stood across from him.

Her raised hackles displayed her agitation and her eyes were cold and hard as they took him in. she spoke first, her words breaking the sudden, deafening silence that had fallen between them as each wolf realised the reflection of the other. He let in a long, slow breath. Startled and stilled as he took her in.

When his legs moved, at first it was as if he was old and stiff. He didn’t move towards her, instead he began to prowl, moving to circle this strange, strange wolf. As he unfurled himself and moved his stride evened out, until he was another predator, circling his prey. “You smell like Empire, and bear the markings of my father. But that's not possible, he died with only one child. You are far too old to be the get of my lost offspring. Who are you? Who sent you into my midst?” his voice got colder, filled with mistrust as he circled the woman in the woods.

"Adhara"

In her chest, Adhara's heart throbbed. It was fast, too fast. All she could hear was the rushing of blood in her hears, blotting out the still silence that had surrounded them both. There was so much of it, and yet, all she could do was stay calm. Deadly, deathly calm. Already she's on the defensive. Already she has to be, a stranger in a foreign world. A world that is far, far beyond her own. The world that had tried to chew her up and spit her out, and the one that she'd come out atop. This was something else.

While the man before her moves, so too, does Adhara. Her steps across the ground come with a catlike grace. Though he's a predator, she too, is a well balanced killing machine. Near instinct as she moves to circle in the opposite direction, never coming nearer or going farther. From somewhere far anbove, Adhara hears Huriya's cry. She's not on her own here, and for that, she's grateful. At least one ally in this world. From above, the vulture circles.

"The empire," Adhara lets go a sharp, humorless laugh. "The empire crumbled, returned to the sand years ago." Even still, it left a bad taste in her mouth. He speaks of his father... the markings of his father. His father... her father... Adhara's teeth glimmered in the fading sunlight with the subtle lift of her lip. "My father was a slave, wouldn't know him from a hole in the wall." Her mother, too, was a slave. She'd been disappointed of the girl, all teeth and elbows and fire. She'd still be disappointed. Adhara figured, with some amusement, that the woman would be rolling in her grave right about now.

"Your midst?" Her eyebrows rise. "What's to say that you're the main character of this story?" She doesn't give her name, she doesn't tell him who she is. In her line of work, it's dangerous to give your name to strangers... unless, of course, you're not going to leave any witnesses. Adhara is still too tired for that degree of gore, and likely too fatigued to show up well in a fight. Still, she continues on in time with the strange man before her, mirroring his movements, keeping enough space between them.

"Adhara"

The two wolves, markings nearly a mirror, and tones polar opposite, paced. Circling the ground, as their paws wore the grass flat. Moving like it was a dance, and they both knew the moves. His heart hammered harder, though you would not believe it with the grace of his movements. She knew of the Empire. Spoke of it crumbling, of sand. She knew of the drought. His empire and hers were the same, as their markings where. Had the slave masters lied? Was there more in his fathers lineage that he did not know of? Did his father have cousins, once or twice removed?

“ My Midst.” He agreed, his voice a rumbly growl. A threat, and a warning. “This is the path to my home now. My world. My people. I would not suffer a threat to what I have created. So tell me, Child of the Empire. Who sent you here to wreak havoc on what I've sown? Who are you to my father, long taken by the earth. Who were you in the Empire? Are you here for her?” his voice was as sharp as a blade. His slow dance around her slowly shifted. His stance building and forming around him. He was ready to take her out, if it came to that. If she was here for Deathbelle, or Venom, or Zee, or any of their children, she would take not another breath.

"Adhara"

The empire may have been his empire, but it was never Adhara's. She wouldn't allow the godforsaken place to have any hold on her, not anymore. An empire built on the backs of slaves, an empire that got what was coming to it. While it wasn't justice, it was... enough. Almost enough. Adhara had spent every minute trying to make up for lost time, fighting tooth and nail to carve out her own destiny instead. She wouldn't be a slave to anything, ever again. That included being a slave to her past.

Though the growl was a warning shot, Adhara would continue. She'd press on. Though she was tired, the woman was every bit as deadly as the man before her. A blade cut in two different shapes, wielded in two different fashions, but a blade that would cut none the less. They are forged from the same steel, and cut from the same cloth, whether they knew it or not. Neither will stop the slow, concentric circles. Tension between them thick, intense. "This isn't about you." The words come, and they're sharp. Spat with such force that the king vulture flies lower now, before dropping tidly onto Adhara's shoulder as she moves. "I don't know you, even if we wear the same skin."

"I was born a slave, I was raised a slave. I don't know your father, and I never knew my father." Her gaze burns, fixed on the shadow that mirrors her movements so. "I have spent the last four fucking summers trying to erase the damage that empire dealt me. The last thing I'm looking for is a reminder of my past." The last question has Adhara squinting in confusion. "Not a grey broad, my height, real ornery?" Had Antiope washed up here too? Shit there really wasn't anything she could do to escape the old bag, was there? "Nah, if you found my ma then you can keep her." Really, her mother had to be dead by now. Long dead, gone in the siege. If she'd found a way to survive then Adhara would be equal parts impressed and horrified. She remains cool, dry, and unphased at best.

"Adhara"

Her words might have been venomous and angry, but in the face of that anger, the Warlord relaxed, just an inch. She didn’t know him, she truly didn’t. Her reason for being here had nothing to do with him and his. So long as that was true, then he could deal with the rest. Their past hadn’t come calling, not today.

As her vulture flew closer, the Warlord's eyes flicked to him, a brief surprise in them. He could almost swear… he had a memory… but no. Surely he had never seen that bird before. Marshal shifted his weight side to side on Seer’s back, his eyes only for the other bird. As for Seer, his eyes were on the pale wolf. Her anger real and felt by the stranger. She truly hated the empire. The Warlord knew he would have felt the same way, if it wasn’t for Deathbelle. His childhood friend had kept him sane, and so long as she was a part of that Empire that had raised him, he couldn’t hate it. Not really.

“... No. No sign of your mother.” a thought, a sly glance in her direction. He had to know. “No Helios, either. He died a long time ago.” He stilled his pacing. Ready for a reaction, an attack. Anything this volatile woman did at the mention of his fathers name.


"Adhara"

Past weaning, life had gone in two extremely different directions for each of the siblings. Fate had a funny way of dragging things back together, and still, it seems they're destined to cross paths once more. Though they orbit each other now, wearing the grass bare beneath their paws, something cosmic has slid into place. The pair of birds are perhaps the first to feel it, the first to understand. Their gazes lock across the circle. Adhara's companion remains stock still upon her shoulder. Waiting. Watching. He's silent and knowing.

The broad was, in all likelihood, dead. Good riddance to that one, really. At her father's name, Adhara tenses even further. Her gaze is burning where it takes in the stranger before her, and her teeth flash once more. This time it's far more deliberate, far more pronounced. "What's my father to you?" The words are venomous. The father that hadn't been anything more than a tall tale, a story. A genetic donation, chosen by the empire. Still, he'd been the father that she'd been told of, the warrior, the reason that she was so tenacious and near impossibly strong for her size.

"Who are you?" Though Adhara had dodged the question when asked, now it was her turn. Curiosity raged inside her, along with something much, much stronger and much darker. It's only now that she asks, never once stopping in her movements, never once pausing their careful, delicate dance.

"Adhara"

What's my father to you? he almost sagged. He could feel the strength leaching from his bones. They lied. It was all a lie. His entire life, he had had a sister out there. Family that was still alive, when he had been told that they were dead.

“And Antiope?” he asked softly, ignoring her question, knowing she would find the answer, as he had, in their words. “Was my mother alive when - they told me she was dead? I was five months old, when they proclaimed me an orphan, with no living relatives left in the world.” He was telling her too much, but he was suddenly tired and old. Not an aggressive predator, dancing to the tones of their heartbeats. Just an old man, with a long behind him filled with too many lies. Had Deathbelle known? Surely not, she had been as young as he was. He supposed it had not been a part of the Empires design to let his mother raise him with his sister.

"Adhara"

Adhara was out here, sure, but no better for it. Maybe she’s been a variety of dead all along. Something else. Something different. Cold and bold, they’d turned her into a weapon. Carefully honed from the start.

To hear their mother’s name fall from his lips, it’s a curse. For the first time, Adhara stands still. “Died in the last siege, as far as I know. I didn’t see her make it out,” some of the edge in Adhara’s tone has blunted. The thought sits heavily in the space between them.

“They told me that my brother died… every time I asked for him, they told me he’d died.” Adhara can’t help but stop. Stock still. There was something strange in her voice, something she wasn’t accustomed to any longer. Only at the end does her voice crack. Only at the end does she look beseechingly to Sirius where he stands before her. All of it was so strange.

Was it too much to believe? Was this a trap? It could have been and yet… and yet. Adhara feels very, very old, all at once.

"Adhara"

Siege? he thought, burning with curiosity for knowledge he hadn’t known had been out there. His mother had been alive all this time? Had she known of his fathers death, of him being given up as an orphan? His childhood was so long ago that he felt oddly detached from his emotions in regards to her. He had had Deathbelle, no matter that might have soured in their later years.

As for the sister before him - she had asked for him, and been told of his death. “I didn’t know you existed. I don’t remember… so young when they took me from Antiope, I don’t remember her face.” He admitted. He was torn between a desire to push down his emotions in front of this stranger, and a strange urge to throttle her until she told him everything she knew. “If I had known… they would have lost their control of me. I never would have stayed away.” he spoke his thoughts out loud, as he began to understand what they had done. In separating them, they had created a dependency on the Empire. He had had no one else.

"Adhara"