[ P ] Father's Daughter

what am i fighting for what have i done? Scourge moved through the towering conifers with the ease of a man who had long learned the language of the wild. The scent of pine was thick in the air here, mingling with the distant promise of rain. Shadows stretched long beneath the trees, their canopies whispering as the wind shifted, heralding the coming storm. Before him, lay the remnants of a once-proud castle rose from the forest floor, a fractured monument to battles long since faded into memory. Its stone walls bore the scars of war - cracked and crumbling, but never truly erased. Here, such weight of conflict lingered, as if settled deep into the marrow of its ancient bones. Jagged remnants of a roof jutted toward the sky like broken ribs, doors reduced to splinters, gates sagging on rusted hinges. The wind stirred the tattered remains of banners that once flew with pride, their colours long faded now, threads barely clinging to the battered stone. Around the castle's ruin, rested an irregular perimeter of sharpened sticks stood - a futile attempt to ward off the wary travellers. The warning was clear, but Scourge had never been one to heed at such silent messages. He stepped forward, brushing past the crude barrier, undeterred by its ominous intent. Above, the heavens rumbled, lightning briefly illuminating the fractured silhouette of the stronghold. The drizzle came first, gentle, cool against his fur - soon to be a torrent, he knew. His gaze drifted back to where @Lycoris trailed in his footsteps. She was not far, her form moving with swift yet careful precision, though he watched her all the same. His ears flicked as thunder rolled, deep and lingering. He exhaled sharply, a breath against the growing winds. We will take shelter here for the night, he murmured, more an open, vocalised thought to himself than anything else, and then another low rumble, closer now. The castle loomed, its broken walls offering refuge, however imperfect. He took a step forward, shaking the dampness from his fur. “Stay close" It was not a command, not truly - just a truth spoken aloud. Satisfied, he turned forward once more. Shelter was needed, and here, amidst the ruins, they would find it. what am i dying for what have we all become?

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In the quiet moments before the heavens broke, maligned men mourned the loss of life inherent of mortal malaise. In the wake of wandering wardens, the spirits paled and parted, making way for the keeper of Death and his young charge. A watcher would be hard pressed to sense the torrent of dead that gathered in such a weathered place - for a mortal man would see only two figures, large leading small, each respectively striking in a way that immediately caught the eye.

Though she was yet young, there was no denying that Lycoris was a pretty, well-proportioned child. Her body was not yet grown into the grace it would eventually command, but there were echoes of its eventuality in the careful, deliberate way she walked, in the somber care with which she regarded the world around her. Her bright blue eyes were keen on the path ahead, only glancing up occasionally to ensure that she didn't lose sight of Scourge through the press of pine and moss.

As she made her way through the forest, there was no hesitation, no fear in her gaze, only blatant trust that her father would carve out the safest trail by which she might follow. Still, her youth was an undeniable handicap; her tender paws were sore after their journey, and her legs were far shorter than her father's bold strides. She trailed behind him, though weariness wore on her bones. She bore it with a quiet stoicism, for she knew of no other acting alternative.

Her curious gaze drifted across the corpse of the old castle, even as they moved to duck beneath its shadow. Rain pitter-pattered upon her pelt, and a drop of water rolled down her nose as she swung around to face her father. His words commanded attention, for they were as rare as her own. She didn't always understand him, but she tried her best. "Okay, dad."

The girl jumped forward, trying to make up the distance between them, and falling into step beside his hulking frame as best as she could. Another moment of silence, of pregnant curiosity as they delved further into the shelter in the midst of the thunderous undercurrent, before - "Dad? What is this place?"

'Shelter' sounded like a good thing, but could they get in trouble for intruding? And more importantly - were they safe? The crumbling walls and the reaching ruins looked like monsters in the dark - and though she was not afraid with her father near, it was all still a bit intimidating. And...well, perhaps she was frightened, just a little bit. It was getting ever so dark now that the storm had rolled in, and the rain was making everything heavy and bright in a way that was wholly unfamiliar.

what am i fighting for what have i done? He did not answer immediately. Words were always chosen carefully, assessed in their necessity. The storm carved its song into the night, thunder rolling through the bones of the land as the rain gathered in earnest. Lycoris’ voice, despite its subtleness, cut through the veil of sound – curious and uncertain. Scourge he was not about to let his little princess lose herself in the skeletal remains of a castle, not when its bones could still bite. Once he was certain - certain she was aware, certain she was watching - he eased aside, just enough to let her through, as they slipped beneath the arching shadow of the ruins. His ears flicked, acknowledging, though his gaze remained forward. Finally, his voice came, steady and deep, threading through the restless air. A place long abandoned. He stepped past the warped remnants of a gate, its rusted iron half-buried in the earth. A place shaped by war. He paused beneath the now jagged remains the roof, letting the heavy scent of damp stone settle over him. The castle was no longer a fortress, no longer a home - it was a husk, hollowed by time. And yet, it stood. Still a guardian of its own ruin. We will be safe here. The words were not reassurance, but fact. He had known true danger. This was not it. The storm churned in the distance, wild and relentless, but within the castle’s remnants, the air was thick with something else - an old, lingering presence, watching, waiting. Scourge had walked among such spirits before and they did not concern him in the slightest. what am i dying for what have we all become?

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