[ P ] For you, I’d bleed.

Pressure was weighing heavily on the girl’s shoulders. Her mind reeled with learned worry even though her face would never show it. Between her jaws was a rope, tied to a wagon being pulled behind her. The wagon was filled with her hunting prizes. Teeth, claws, skulls, tails, pelts, paws, antlers - from all kinds of animals. Predators and prey alike. From her travels and endeavors Black had earned herself many a scarring, the long thick slash across one of her back thighs from her very first prize ever acquired - a bear pelt. She was proud of her work, this was her trade, and so she would try to make money at it in order to help her family.

Why else would she do such a rigorous job?

She hauled her pile of treasures up to the twin cities, knowing the hustle and bustle of the city of Inverness would possible drum up some business. With a spot located and selected, with good traffic, she halted the wagon and dropped her rope. She chose a place with a few shrubs scattered close by, of which she would use to drape some pelts over, place the corresponding skulls on, and settled her wagon in between two decorated shrubs and placed each item in a certain spot, hanging over the wagon, displayed on the rim of it, and in front by the wheels.

This ordeal took her a great amount of time, she was particular, she was precise. By the end of it, her outfit looked pretty decent, and she huffed a sigh of relief. She could smile, really, proud of her work as she then turned to the crowds to wait patiently for anyone to be interested in her wares. But the girl didn’t speak, she didn’t call out. No, the huntress sat quietly, a poised and regal posture, with bright eyes scanning and her visage painted in stern stoicism.

Elias

Although he had little love for the Highlands—something that was thickly slathered into Mainlander propaganda—he enjoyed Inverness. It was a sentiment that he kept to himself, not finding it pertinent to share with his guide. Although Roisin had never been a wolf of many words, something about stepping foot into her homeland had set her on edge. She would never snap at him, she was smarter than that, but he could sense the tension. And, for once, he deigned to tread lightly. In doing so, he searched for the first opportunity to separate from her. That was their game—albeit backwards. The mouse was forced to chase the cat and keep it on a tight leash despite the fact that it was not allowed to tug or pull.

He complained of needing refreshment and she set off, dutiful as ever, to acquire some.
And he slipped away, intrigued by the market and the scenes that sprawled out before him. Of shopkeepers hawking their wares and of small families milling about the stalls. It was not wholly unfamiliar to him, just more... open. In Rionna, the streets were thin and dirty and the shopkeepers bumped hips and shoulders as they scrambled to gain notice. Here, there was space to breathe and idle.

Elias joined the throng, slow and at ease within the pace that he took, unaware if his slender frame caused any convenience. It did not occur to him that he walked in the opposite direction of the general stream of traffic—nor did he particularly care.

As he passed by two shrubs, he noticed a wagon heaped with various hunting trophies. It was a macabre assemblage, and his nose wrinkled slightly. Where was the creativity? A dark ear flicked as he stepped by. Simultaneously, a burly fisherman shoved into his shoulder and he stumbled to the side, bumping into the wagon. The aged would creaked and moaned as it began to fall to the side... steadily emptying the contents that had been arranged on top.

Elias, not in the slightest feeling guilty or interested, carried on—if allowed.

- Exit Elias (unless stopped, and do feel free to stop him LOL) -

"speak"

code & art by claerie


@Black

In mere seconds, her work had been undone. The stranger bumped into her, staggering himself, and effectively ruined her entire sales set up. The whole wagon fell over, her wares came tumbling out. She gasped slightly before jumping back to observe the damage. And the culprit? He was walking off like he didn’t do anything. Eyes of seaglass burned brighter with rage as it simmered just beneath the surface, her lips curled into a nasty snarl, and she moved with swift accuracy to attempt and block his path. Her ears pinned as she glared up at him.
"You knocked over my wagon,"
While clearly angry, she attempted just this once to maintain diplomacy. But she was already working with a short fuse.
"I ask that you kindly help me fix what you have done, sir."
How kind of her. To ask and not demand, to keep her manners when in that moment she wanted to rip his throat out and add it to her collection.

Her tail whipped behind her, unmoving from his path, bright eyes shooting daggers as she studied his face and demeanor. How would this end? How would this go? Either way Black saw benefit for her on both sides of it. If he fought against her, maybe another scar could be acquired. If he didn’t, then her stall would be rebuilt and she could carry on. But with all those years of living deep within the wildernesses, socially speaking she was inept, and she surely didn’t know what to expect.

Elias

Elias stared with confused frustration as a woman suddenly blocked his path. Her fur was ruffled, her green eyes narrowed and sharp. Had he been blessed with a pelt as unblemished as his mother's, they would have been perfect opposites of each other. Instead, a crown of soft gray adorned his brow. It meant nothing here, but it was not in Elias' nature to bow or acquiesce to a set of rules separate from his own. What he could not fathom though was why she was upset. He was inclined to look over his shoulder to see if she was, in fact, mistaken. Perhaps she had a bone to pick with a different white furred gentleman?

"You knocked over my wagon."
...Ah. Elias glanced back at her. He hadn't even registered her as the seller. Indeed, his shoulder had bumped into hers, but he'd been more focused on the burly fisherman. This shopkeep had just been collateral damage.

"I ask that you kindly help me fix what you have done, sir."
What?

At this, Elias' brow furrowed. This was quite the display of hubris. Was he not a customer? And had this not been an accident? Did she think he had hurtled into her out of habit or on a whim?

"No, ... thank you." His white ears flicked as he moved to walk past her, uninterested in playing her errand boy. This was not how he intended to spend his day.

- Exit again unless stopped again (and do feel to snag his scruff or knock him down lmao) -

"speak"

code & art by claerie


@Black

"No, thank you."

Her eyes widened. No thank you? No thank you! What was in this man’s head?! Her teeth bared now, onyx lip curling to expose her bridgework. How dare he! She was under the impression the towns were full of kind beings, perhaps full of pride but kind nonetheless. She had done nothing to deserve this, and so Black absolutely refused to let him slip by without his piece of justice. She sought it, and he needed to pay his price.

As he tried to move passed her, she aimed to lean harshly into his shoulder area, hoping to get her point and wishes across in one swift, firm movement.
"Yes, thank you."
The woman growled.
"You knocked it over. You could at least help me pick it up."
She snarled through gritted fangs. If he tried to move again, she wasn’t sure what her anger would do. If he denied her again, she wasn’t sure what she might say. At this point control was slipping, but she prided herself on her control. She would do her best to keep it, but she couldn’t make herself any promises. What on earth would Caspian think of her now?

Elias

She may have asked that he assist her, but it was no genuine request. The polite timbre to her voice had been little more than a pleasant veneer over a demand. At least that was what he assumed judging by her reaction. As if his response had been a sudden cold snap, her muzzle seemed to crack and reveal her yellowed ivories. Green eyes sharpened, her stare pointed enough to puncture. Elias, as a credit to his luxurious and shameless upbringing, had the nerve to feel affronted. His gaze narrowed in turn, pale ears flicking back as he squared his shoulders. The fur along his hackles rose as he took in this display of self-righteous frustration.

At his attempt to sidestep her, she jammed her shoulder against his own. While she was not much larger than he, there was more muscle behind her touch. The body check caused him to stumble back a step and at this his ears folded back against his skull. No longer did he just feel offended—he felt supremely justified in that offense.

Meanwhile, the other townspeople around them seemed to adopt different tactics. Most carried on, rather unperturbed. Others seemed to fix their stares on his hide. As if he had done something wrong?

"And what of the wolf that barrled into me?" Elias asked, his voice uncharacteristicaly hot with anger. "You make a villain into another victim."

"speak"

scroll down

code & art by claerie


@Black

It was clear no matter what she said to him, or what she did, he wouldn’t do as she wanted. The lack of morals, the lack of manners this man had was shocking, and something Black didn’t quite understand enough to process. He should just … do what was right, right? The notion that his justices were not her justices but perhaps justices all the same was something far beyond the drone’s comprehension. But at his words, bright seaglass eyes rolled.
"Victims, villains, it matters not when I only asked you to do the right thing."
He did not retaliate physically to her display, which in turn could be seen as her own villainous performance. So she stood upright, lifted her chin slightly, and looked to the mess the man had caused.
"But I see doing the right thing is beyond you,"
She now gave a look of disgust, her eyes scanning him with a slightly furrowed brow and a curled lip of disdain.
"I shall have the name of the man who could not stow his pride long enough to help clean up the mess he made,"
Station or not, political party differences, none of it mattered to Black. Only justice did.

Even if it was her justice.