[ P ] Esther

Nassar sniffed as she flexed her jaw. A soft ache throbbed within her nose and she lifted her foreleg so that she could brush her lips against the tawny fur. Streaks of blood were left in her wake—her trophies for the day. Amber eyes panned down to the man that was being assessed by one of the Majors that served beneath her. He had gotten a tad riled up from the events of the protest and the brawl and had tried to join the fray. With her daughter and betrothed already handling the worst offenders, Nassar had stayed in the crowd to try and salvage whatever was left of the peace. In doing so, she had been forced to pin the man and hold him down until he stopped fighting—and it turned out that he had just wanted to flee, to force his way through the crowd and find his family. Violently, yes, but Nassar understood the impulse.

She didn't hold the ache within her jaw against him. No, she turned her gaze on the wolves that were being dragged away, their blood smearing the stony floor.

It was their fault. Ashen ears flared forward, smoldering gaze searching the faces of her comrades for Kvothe and Cairo. They were likely giving reports to the King or tending to their wounds with royal medics. At least a soldier had been kind enough to find her and tell her that there were no casualties.

...

The sensation of being stared at caused the fur along her spine to bristle. Turning, she saw the standard fanfare of a broken up rebellion: blood, wolves talking, wolves limping away, nobles herding eachother to the gates whilst gossiping. Then gray eyes seemed to meet her own.

art: snow-body + code: claerie

@Nyx

i used to wake up with the moon

praying for the sun to die soon

She'd come looking for refreshment and was instead treated to a show. It is the smell of blood, the sounds of a struggle, and the chaos of the crowd that has led her to abandon her quest for wine, instead overcome with the desire to watch the battle that rages on — she is unfortunately unable to get a perfect view of the scene, but she can see enough to admire the choreography of the fight and analyze the combatants' tactics.

Luckily she's tall enough to see over most heads as chaos swarms around her, wolves all trying to scramble to safety, to their loved ones, away from this. But for Nyx, there is nowhere she'd rather be. A separate conflict breaks out within the crowd, stealing her attention away from the main event. She catches a blur of fiery fur, a wolf very efficiently taking down and subduing another. That must be one of the guards, here to at least attempt rein in the mob.

How difficult it is to regain control of a frightened populace...

Everything is over as quickly as it began. It comes as no surprise the army fended off the threat, if one could even call it that, but the bloodshed had killed most everyone's mood. The dust settles and wolves are soon to start clearing out, but Nyx is one of those that choose to linger.

She watches an older woman of ember fur with intrigue, recognizing her as the one who had swiftly apprehended that man. Just then, stern amber eyes meet her own. As if on cue, Nyx begins her approach, steady and confident, head up and eyes forward just as she'd been taught.

"You are with the army?" It's not much of a question, just something to lead with and obtain confirmation. She stops a few feet away from the stranger, leaving a respectful amount of space between the two of them. "The fight, it was inspiring to witness. Your wolves handle themselves well, like true warriors. It's been a long time since I've seen such efficient teamwork." Too long.

Her chin jerks vaguely in the direction of where it had all taken place, nothing left but blood smearing the stone floor. "Who were they? The attackers? Those were not simple belligerent drunks," Nyx says, silver eyes burning with curiosity.

@Nassar

i used to get caught in the clouds, with blood on my face, with the strangest smile

hoping for the wind to carry me away