She had left Covari for a little vacation of sorts. After the meeting and then Crucifix following her, she needed to get away. She needed the leave the south entirely, to many memories remained. Heavy paws carried her across the lands, the landscape slowly changing until she reached the north. Verdant gaze swept the horizon easily, spotting a mountain within her path. As she approached, she could see the entrance to a cave, but other than the entrance, everything else disappeared into darkness. She would approach, paws pressing against the stones, nails clicking gently. She would linger within the mouth of the cave, her vision adjusting the slightly darker light, though the high sun provided some guidance. Nostrils quivered, taking in the stale scent of past visitors. Audits swiveled, any noise echoing off the stone walls. She would venture in deeper, the sunlight lingering behind her. Her pace was slow, giving her eyes enough time to adjust to the darkness. Her mind wandered freely, though all of her most recent memories were filled with pain. She remembered back when she first arrived her, when she had first met Taurig. Everything had been so easy, so carefree, nothing was wrong. But then he left, and left her to care for his family. She took a crown, but had fallen when challenged. And then her heart had been broken more times that she cared to count. The men in her life seemed unfit to be there. A sigh rolled off her tongue, limbs stopping and folding beneath her as she seated herself within the caves. She was ready for things to turn around, for her life to pick up again and for things not to be so bad. But would they ever? She felt as though there was no light at the end of the tunnel. "Talk" "You" Think

Still she found her way into his wits in the most unexpected occasions; she did not plague him with want and desire, but she was undeniably there, a slightly faded obsession his mind struggled to liberate. He had seen the embers of fury that simmered beneath her emerald gaze, the flaming abhorrence only the most dedicated were capable of. Within the steaming of her boiled fuse, Isardis saw potentially; harnessed and misguided by Taurig?s polluted attempts at bitter sweet treachery. The pale ghoul was little aware what had happened to the boy, but blinded and disfigured he was but a wandering disadvantage, powerless unless guided by the oh-so-generous help of his allies. He holds little desire to venture the darkened reaches of the eerie polar cave systems, alas he will taunt it?s overpowering entrance but a moment before the albino cautiously makes his way in; seeking only the russet babe that had been seen meandering towards it?s depths barely moments before. He is so bored within his days, barely satisfied watching the world roll by at Athena?s paws, and though entertainment is sure to come soon, what better a way to kill his boredom than in the company of Sibelle? Though multiple encounters ensure they are far from strangers, there is no truly existent relationship that defies how this meeting will unfold. He pauses, perhaps not as tempted by the looming darkness as she, ?Do her luminous lanterns provide seamless vision in such volatile darkness, or does she simply seek the thrill of the unknown?? lips flutter and tweak, coral toes splaying in some fickle sense of self-pride as he awaits the answer of his strayed daughter.

His words would assault her at the same moment as his scent. Lips threatened to lift with mild distain and annoyance. It had been some time since he had last found her, but he seemed to have an uncanny ability to do so. She would turn, his shadowing forming against the rays of light that filtered in. He would venture in slowly, cautiously. A smirk curled scarred lips. "Afraid of the dark, are we?" A brow would lift mockingly, not that he would be able to it. Her body would pivot in order for her to face the ice king head on. Rarely did he ever stick around long, he seemed to make it a habit of appearing, saying a few words before disappearing once again from her life. Not that she minded, the less time she had to spend with him the better. "Rumor has it you no longer sit on a throne..." She would trail off in hopes of mocking his lack of power as a king. Powerful stilts would bring her closer, back into the light so that she could better see him. He looked no different, an air of arrogance still surrounded him, and even though it didn't show, she knew he was aging, probably faster than he liked. Tattered ears swiveled forward to focus solely on him, toxic gaze eyeing him closely. What had he become without his throne? Surely he hadn't changed one bit, it didn't seem possible. The fallen queen stood silent, looking rather indifferently at the man who had been so kind as to sire her. Did he know of her rise to power and her untimely down fall? She wouldn't put it past him. But she would say nothing on the matter, allowing the silence to envelope them. "Talk" "You" Think

He chuckles weakly, feverish upon her words; cherry lips flickering with a frail sense of bemusement as he tries oh so hard to contain the humour she so kindly offers him. ?Fear has long since failed me, little russet,? a brittle suggestion perhaps, straying towards his unwavering valour. Though he did not appreciate being blinded within the seamless contours of heavy darkness, he was far from struck with terror when waltzing its unpalatable depths. She seems well, though Isardis has never been one to closely observe, he finds the once-lamb withholds a maturity that was last disguised by a pride not earned. Perhaps she has simply developed--? Though the pallid ghoul cannot help but wonder if she has experienced a downfall; been tamed by an unknown usurper. ?Glaciem was offered to an Heir; a daughter who?s ambitions and loyalties reflect the standards of her surname,? he pauses, lips threatening to contort in a fickle sense of humour as his joints grease; a vague sway starting within his structured limbs. ?Though that is not something I would expect you to understand, of course. One can only expect so much from those known to stray,? oh the dry taunts that flicked graceless spitter about his coral lips, pale towers flickering with wandering interest as he basks so blissfully beneath the anxiety that threatened to swallow their minds. Though he is calm, pleasured, he wonders what has become of the little ember and drifted beliefs.