The raid had been fought and Valta had been named victorious! Much celebrating was to be had, and Elysium would be providing the pack with a lavish feast for winning. But for Satira, it was a bittersweet victory. The pack had won as a whole and she had won one of her two fights, but the stinging defeat that came at being bested not just by someone bigger and stronger than her, but someone who had taken both her and Cináed down at the same time was a real blow to the ego. She thought for sure that they'd come out on top and she'd be able to win the bet she'd made with her roommate, but in the end it hadn't worked out that way at all. She wasn't exactly upset at the outcome, more disappointed that she couldn't have been better for her pack, as a battle buddy to Ciná, or for her own expectations of herself. In truth, she kind of felt she had brought Ciná down rather than helping him out against the Elysian wolf. Perhaps if she'd stayed out of the fight and Ciná had taken on the prince by himself, things would've worked out differently.

Once the fights had ended and the initial triage of the wounded had been concluded, Satira made her way back to her den at the top of the falls she shared with Cináed, trudging along while she did her best to ignore the ache in her sore muscles and back and the ringing in her head. She'd gotten kicked, how many times in the head? Three? She thought it was three. Hopefully she didn't have a concussion; that would really suck. All she really wanted was a strong drink from her private stash, some painkillers, and a nice hot bath or back rub. Maybe she'd be able to convince Ciná to give her one if she asked really nicely. Stepping into the den, she called out for "Ciná, you in?" to see if he'd made it back home in the time she'd lingered behind to help patch up the other Valtan fighters. Not waiting for a response, Tira padded her way into the den and over to the shelves that lined the common space, picking out a bottle of something clear and uncorking it to immediately swallow a mouthful of the potent alcohol within.

"Cináed & Satira"

Cináed sighed as he flopped over onto the bed he shared with Tira, only to immediately regret such decisions as he winced at the ache and pain of his sore muscles that protested the impact. With a grumble he settled in, eventually staring up at the ceiling of their den while he waited on Satira to return from patching up the other fighters. He was certainly glad that Valta won the raid, whether it was for practice or not, but he couldn't quite shake the weird feeling he had over seeing his brother again for the first time in... gods, he wasn't even sure how long it had been. How much time had passed since the day that Incindium fell? He had originally planned on finding Ignis after it was all over, but after the loss he and Tira had to the Elysium prince he didn't really feel like talking–or at least not to a ghost from his past. Considering it was two-to-one in the fight he was still kind of shocked that they lost and it only made the loss sting a little more than it probably would have otherwise. He sighed and tried to just tell himself it was all part of the game that was here kinds of fights and raids. Not every fight was going to come out as a win.

Eventually his ear twitched toward the sound of paws entering the den, quickly followed by Tira's familiar voice calling out to him. "Yeah," he called back, half expecting her to just come into the bedroom and flop onto the bed like he had, but when she didn't immediately come into the smaller chamber he rolled himself back to his paws with a bit of effort and he stepped out into the main living area so see what she was up to. He rounded the corner just in time to see her taking a long drink from one of the strong liquors that usually sat lined up on one of the shelves. He smirked and walked over to join her, sitting back onto his haunches as he waited for her to finish before reaching for the bottle himself to join her in drinking away their loss. The alcohol burned his tongue and throat, but the immediate hit of warmth through his gut was appreciated. Handing the bottle back to her, he raised a curious and slightly concerned brow as he asked, "Is it a good idea to be drinking after getting hit in the head like you did?" even though he already knew she'd continue drinking regardless.

"Cináed & Satira"

Not more than a moment had passed from her calling out to her roommate, Satira heard the distinctive baritones of Cináed call back from the bedroom, confirming he was home and awake. Good, at least she wouldn't be drinking alone for now. Heavy paws padded out into the common space and when Tira turned around, there was Ciná in all his giant red glory, smirking as he came up to join her. He reached for the bottle of liquor and Tira handed it over without any fuss. Any other night and she might've played keep away with it for a bit just to tease him, but after their ego-crippling defeat, she felt he probably needed a good stiff drink as much as she did. She took the bottle back into her speckled paws while he asked if drinking was a good idea following the blows she'd taken to the head, and the feisty little wolf-dog made a point to hold Ciná's gaze as she lifted the bottle back to her lips and swallowed down another two mouthfuls. Should she have been drinking when she was potentially sporting a mild concussion? No, probably not. Did she give a damn? Absolutely not.

"Well, the liquor makes me forget about the hits to the head, and I'm about to get high too so that's probably worse, right? Thanks for your input though, Doctor Ciná," she remarked with her usual sass and sarcasm in her voice. Setting the bottle on the floor between them so he could help himself to more, Satira stood up, pilfered some cannabis from her stash, and began to make her way back towards the bedroom. The chamber of the den she used for the bedroom was spacious and simply decorated: a massive pile of plush and soft furs for a bed and a large mirror she'd scavenged from some nearby ruins were the major features of the bedroom. Tira plopped herself down in front of the mirror, looking over how badly she'd gotten disheveled and bloodied in the raid. Thankfully, besides some dirty and mussed up fur, she hadn't left sporting any new injuries or scars. Only her ego was really left bleeding in the aftermath. "Jeez, I look like I got trampled by a herd of rhinos," she muttered mostly to herself, rubbing away some of the dirt from her cheeks. "How're you feeling, big guy? You got tossed by that other red brute pretty good. Wanna share some cannabis and take a bath with me?" Tira put in a little extra sweetness into her voice as she offered Ciná what she thought sounded like a damn good way to end this day. Of course, she was open to his suggestions too if he had other things on his mind.

"Cináed & Satira"

Ciná smirked and shrugged as she met his bit of questioning with her typical Tira sass. He had already known that she would continue on regardless before he asked, but at least he could say he tried to be responsible. He picked up the bottle as it was sat between them again and lifted it back to his lips for another quick drink of the warming liquor as she began to walk away. He unabashedly watched her go, always more than happy to be distracted from their defeat and the conflicted feelings he had around his always complicated family with the feminine sway of her hips. After taking another quick sip he got up to follow her, making sure to bring the bottle with him as he walked back into their bed chamber with her just as she was examining herself in the mirror and rubbing some dirt from her cheek.

Setting the bottle to the side for a moment, he stepped up behind her at the mirror, grinning a little as she asked how he was and offered some ways to make both of their day a little better. He doubted getting drunk and high were the best ways the handle any of this, but he didn't have a better solution and forgetting all about this day was certainly preferable in his opinion. "I'm pretty sore, but not too sore for some cannabis and a bath." he replied with a rumbling chuckle as he leaned his head down to nuzzle at her cheek. He slipped a foreleg around her slender frame as he sat down behind her, pulling her much smaller form back into his for a moment. "I'm not too sore to take you to bed either if you're feeling up to it after your bath."

"Cináed & Satira"

Satira wasn’t kept waiting long before she heard the heavy footfalls of her live-in lover following her into their shared bedroom and then saw his massive fiery red and smoky black form coming up behind her in the mirror’s reflection. A salacious grin grew slowly across her lips as she felt his presence behind her, heard his rumbling baritone voice express his interest in her suggested ways of unwinding, then felt his large muzzle nudge and nuzzle at her cheek from behind. A light, airy giggle escaped the petite fae as she relished his affections, leaning into him subtly as she played coy and kept her eyes on their reflections, quite liking the way her smaller form looked framed and eclipsed by his own. That enjoyment only grew when she watched Ciná sit back on his haunches and reach for her, one giant, strong foreleg looping around her slender midsection and pulling her effortlessly back towards him.

Those giggles of hers continued, evolving into a pleased murr as she reclined her petite form back into his grasp, the wolf-dog girl very much liking being held by this massive brute. Cináed’s explicit comment about not being too sore to take her to bed either elicited a delighted hum from Tira, her little grin growing to flash rows of pearly white teeth with thinly veiled lewd anticipation. "Hmm, is that so…?" she hummed in feigned innocent curiosity, tilting her head back to meet his gaze with a sultry look in her own blue eyes, batting long lashes up at him. "Well, if you do a good job helping me clean my coat, maybe I’ll give you a nice treat." Holding his gaze with her own smoldering look, Tira let her fluffy tail sway backward between them, brushing over Ciná’s male anatomy in lewd suggestion. Giggling to herself again, Satira batted at his giant paws around her midsection with dainty paws. "That does mean you're gonna have to let go of me though, unless you're planning on carrying me to the river."

"Cináed & Satira"