[ P ] power over me

It was the early hours of morning, and Riften had been resting in the home his parents had made for their family. After discussing the many things that had tried to break Riften to his parents, he promised he would stay out of harm and trouble's way respectively. He did not wish to fight for Adahm, for Jacob, not even for Rayne. He was tired of hurting, and just wanted to be around those that actually loved him. Because he had been able to fix things with father, he hoped that Lenora would be here so that he could try to repair the things that had been broken between them. But she was nowhere to be found, and he supposed she somehow still felt a sense of duty to the crown - and for what? What did Adahm have that was so great to turn her back on her brother? The more he thought of it, the more it angered him and he was much further from the closure he needed. If he was going to speak to Lenora about it, he would need to do so in a way that was positive, not just throwing negativity at each other. Just as he was sleeping, he heard a weird sound close to his head, but he ignored it. Whatever was making the sound was not stopping however, and not only did it not stop, it was getting louder. Riften opened an eye to see a bird with a rather unhappy expression in the eyes. He didn't see the message it was holding in its claws, and shut his eyes once more. Trying to drift back to sleep, the flapping noise did not end. Only when he felt the beak of the bird peck his face, did he decide it was time to wake up. "Okay! I am up! What is so important?" The bird dropped the letter at his paws. Opening it up, the bird watched him with a flittered frustration, his feathers were all puffed up, and Riften knew the bird was mad at him. "It's from Bast," he said aloud to himself, but the bird chirped a response and then quickly sped off into the direction of where it came from. He watched the bird for a moment and then started to read the letter. Oye she was mad. He could tell in the words scribbled on the paper. Riften stretched and looked behind him to where his parents were sleeping. He had just promised them he would not run off, and now he was half running off. She wanted to meet him at the border, not to cross it or go over it, but to just meet there. He knew that if he said any of that to his parents, they may not agree with such a meeting. He knew he would have to slink away before either of them woke up - even though the meeting time would be much later. Riften tiptoed out of the den and made his way to the sound-absorbent grass ahead. Then he jetted off in a flash, his paws carrying him through the terrain into the forest. He made sure that he was respectful of the area, and upon approaching, he could smell the scent of the border. Sinking low to the ground, he decided to low crawl towards the distinguished line between both worlds. He was doing it so carefully, slowly and quietly heaving himself forward. "Hey! I don't think you want to be doing that pup!" "Who the hell are you calling a pup?!" He shouted out as the border patrolman charged towards him. The male was much larger, older, and probably more skilled than Riften. "I just want to see my friend, I am one of you..." The guard sneered and snarled, "You came from that side, out of bounds - there you will stay unless you got a good reason to be comin' over 'ere." Without hesitation, Riften darted towards the line, only to be stopped by the guard and thrown back to his side. "Go home!" Riften slid on the ground. He did not get up, but snorted in anger towards the guard as he walked off. Riften waited around in the tall grass, laying on the ground. He was waiting to see if the guard would come back. "honor the gods that walk among us" @Bastille

Those first endeavors at getting a message across the border had ended rather poorly though Bastille held high hopes that one of her later attempts had garnered success. No foolish highlander to intercept a letter nor devour the very bird meant to squawk it out. If she ever laid eyes upon that shadowed buffoon again there would be no hesitance in tearing him a new one. His blood would grace her tongue again with a vengeance. Though in these moments it was not the nameless she sought nor the smoke laced guard fought alongside but rather a friend.

With the sun’s rays just creeping over the horizon a patrol would be changing soon and these early morning hours left openings. Many would still be sleeping and with shifts running long, the night watchers may be less vigilant, they might be too tired to act upon less threatening souls that attempted to set foot onto the lands of Rionnach. If not… well the fire marked wolfess could do was hope she discovered the pointed boy first. That coat appearing more akin to the feral felines glimpsed in town than any other wolf she’d seen. Though her thoughts of this ‘kitty cat’ were swiftly derailed as grumbled tones rose from an unknown stomping past her.

Her ears flickered toward him. Something about a sand coated brat trying to cross over, how he’d need to tell his fellow guardsmen about this troublemaker in case another attempt was made beneath their watch. Whoever this man spoke of Bastille hoped that his frustrations would only led to her own amusement. Desert marked tail waved languidly behind her before calling out to the guard, “Want me to handle this little 'rat' problem?” She was careful not to let posture falter as the man’s tired eyes danced over her frame. A huff slipping free, “Do what you will with the pup. Already got a warning.” Though whatever thoughts flooded his mind where not finished, however, it was easy enough to fill in the blanks.

More often than not it seemed the patrols went straight for punishment, a lesson learned rather than a mere verbal reprimand. If that was all which was done well, he got off lucky; but this sense of not knowing only urged her steps onward. She needed to find him. Surely this ‘pup’ still lingered near the invisible divide. With a brief nod toward the patrolman she turned to leave, a path quickened toward the border all while vibrant sights scanned the blooming foliage. It took some time but soon enough a flash of sandy tones blessed her vision and from the familiar aromas which radiated from that pelt it could only be one beast.

Riften. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her yet? Clinging to this notion a sly smile crept over the fiery femme’s lips before she crouched low to the ground. Slow calculated steps prowling ever closer to where the other lay amidst the grass. Even her breath died to a steady whisper as if she were stalking a prey item rather than companion. Though the moment she felt she was near enough muscles flexed and tensed before launching her forward, the wildfire aiming to pounce a top the ‘criminal’ that guard muttered about.

“Gotcha!” Lyrics sang as Bastille hoped to settle her weight over him, to press herself to his back though even if he managed to weasel away from her grasps it would not bring a tongue to still. “Wanna give me a reason not to bring you in?” Phrases teased at his ear, hinting that she had heard of the mishap she assumed he’d suffered moments ago. However, this was a soul she would never drag to the gallows. Laughing to herself another query slipped free, “Assume you got my message Riffy?”

He was shocked that he had actually been found by one of the guards. For some reason, he thought he would be able to get around without actually being spotted. He was lucky he was only verbally sent away. He had heard rumors of others that did not get the same sentiments. Maybe this was because they thought he was a child? He was no child. He was an adult now. His eyes watched carefully into the area in his hiding place. Truth be told, he would probably be seen again, but he hoped she would arrive soon enough. After all, he was the one that was following what her note said. He was on time, but where was she? He would wait here as long as he thought he could. But if it got too late, he would have to go back home and prove that he was not in Rionnach. Before he knew it, someone was getting very close to him while he was busy sniffing a beautiful flower that was blooming. He focused on the petals, his mind not reminding him of how much danger he could be in - if he were spotted. Right as she was to begin her assault, he was pulled back into reality and sat up to see what was going on. As she launched herself at him, her paws hit his chest and his back landed on the ground with a thud. As she jokingly threatened him, he could not help but to chuckle. He didn't bother to push her off of him either. It wasn't really a concern of his at the moment. Not unless she was actually serious of turning him in. "I definitely got it. Did you instruct that little thing to peck out my eyes if I didn't pay attention to it?" He smiled at her as he had asked, of all the wolves he had come across, she had never done him wrong. They had been friends for a long time, if there was anyone outside of his bloodline that he had trusted, it was her. "What did you need me to come see you for? You know my folks are on the run, yeah?" "honor the gods that walk among us" @Bastille

Contact was thrilling, a wide fanged grin tugging across her features as she stared down at her fellow youth. Yet so different they were when one had paws planted firmly against his chest and he seemingly refused to struggle beneath her grasps. It would not have been needed, not after realization had settled in over just who assailed him now… but it would’ve made it more fun in her eyes. A bit of a game, a show of strength despite the purpose for calling him here in the first place. She cared not of the whispers over his parents, of the countries proclamation of traitors and enemies to dwell within the highlands.

While such a title could be placed on some, the boy beneath her now was hardly a threat to the crown. He wasn’t - and never would be seen - as a foe. Though while Bastille may not be here to harm him or his family, she was not above teasing as a muzzle pressed nearer. Fangs threatening to graze his throat should he make any sudden move, even as nothing but hot breath puffed against his fur with light laughter of her own. That fleeting sound softening the false venom of her features before a crown would pull back, “Yeah and I told it to pull out all your fur too if that didn’t work!” She hadn’t and yet the very thought of it amused her.

Just imagine how silly little Riffy would look running around with a bald patch from some bird! Another short snicker escaped her lungs, that blazing gaze staring down at him as he sought the reason behind her summons. She was silent for a moment as she contemplated just how she was going to say this for from the lips of another she’d heard he had been within the fray. He’d faced his sister and gotten locked up for it to boot… but there was still a chance. This lovestruck fool had been upon the battle field, if he were not blinded by love and war, he may have been exposed to the one truth she searched for.

Those around her keen on keeping lips sealed as if it were a secret to keep. As if she were not worthy of knowing the truths they may hold. Even thinking of it now brought blood to boil, a twitch of her lips that vanished nearly as soon as it had risen as all focus fell back to Riften. He was not the subject of her ire and, as of yet, had not earned it nor the sharp tongue that met so many. “I had my suspicions but I’m not tryin to cause problems for your folks,” no matter how others may see them, they were still creatures of her past, “I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t important.”

Briefly attentions drifted back as if to ensure the man on patrol did not think of returning before she’d shift off of him, allowing him up while her own haunches hit the ground. That fiery stare glued upon him and only him in these moments, “Is it true you took part in the war?” Her question stated matter of factly with focus never drifting, “There are questions I have about a certain… incident that none have been willing to answer.” And if he held something, anything over it there was certainty she could pry it out of him if it was not given freely.

Bastille always had a way of making things that should be more serious, a game. She playfully threatened him, to which Riften rolled his eyes, but stayed still until she let him up. He was not in the mood for fighting, whether for play or real. He had done that enough to last him a lifetime. "My fur's all I got now... Don't tell that blasted bird to do such a thing!" He hoped she was joking, as he gave a soft chuckle. That bird really knew how to get the word across to him. Finally the charade of play had disappeared and the real reason he had been called here was coming to light. She told him it was important and he figured it must have for the bird to attack him with such vigor. He sat up, cleaned himself off, and leaned in to be able to whisper to her. Nobody needed to know about his parents or anything he was about to share with her. "Bast... I..." he hung his head. He felt terrible for what he had done during the war. He was not supposed to be there, his father never would have wanted that for him. He was not supposed to be anywhere near those sort of places and events. Death was terrifying, and literally it could strike anyone in range of aggressively fueled tyrants. "I did. I fought Jacob's war, two times I was on the battlefield.." he hung his head in shame as he whispered. Both times had been for foolish reasons fueled by stupidity. "I don't recall a lot, but if there is anything I saw that could help you - of course, I would tell you... I am sorry..." he murmured to his friend. He knew that her family was all about the army, and his father was in the army, but terrible things had happened and changed a lot of things. "What do you want to know?" "honor the gods that walk among us" @Bastille