river's songs gonna pull me through

Tensions had risen close to their peaks, leaving many to finish sharpening their blades and tightening their bows, and tidying up their camouflage. The boy was never one to miss out on opportunities to learn when it came to his training, but he managed to convince himself to leave the centerfold of the fortress and wander to its edges. His path was guided by the orange lit sky that was burning to gold. His paws beginning to sink jusy slightly under his weight as he meandered closer to the river that raged just outside of the fortresses walls.

Down its course, one could see where it cascaded below into the sea that nearly cuts off the highlands from the rest of the country.a pity, the lowlands being a buffer between two clashing nations. His focus was past the sea, into the dimming horizon. That was where his Hate flowed to, where it most lingered. His young paws were aching for his first chance to bury an Imperial Sgòthan ( Scum) in the dirt where they stand. He made a promise to himself: all of their blood spilt, as payment for spilling the blood of his parents. Such a vengeance shouldn't burn so deeply, having only known them for such a short time, but perhaps that was why it was fuel for his fire.

And so, here he sat. He was all too calm on the outside, while on the inside he was boiling and in going in every direction. The sound of the rushing water of the river, however, was his calming sensation for the time being. There was Noone to take his frustrations out on, and anyone that was available likely wouldn't allow for much to be expressed physically.

code & art by claerie

(i'll put a table in later.... maybe)
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War, the fortress whispers filled her ears, and anticipation welled within her chest with each passing hour. This was what she had been trained for - hell, she'd even hazard she was designed for it. Muscles were tense underneath her auburn fur. Eyes, narrowed in concentration, looked around and observed her brethren who prepared the Fortress for any attack. The tendons were so taught along the back of her neck that a headache began to blossom within her skull, and with a scowl the young war maiden decided to take a quick walk in the fresh air. The air within their home was suffocating and warm.

Claws clicked along the stony floors before finding purchase in the soil as she left her home and followed a trail towards the river. The water always cleared the air around it, and she knew each breathy lungful would rid her of this annoying ache. She had to be ready at a moments notice; the second her father called her to arms she would be right by his side, along with her brother. Would her sister join them? She'd hardly seen Roisin since she returned to their home, and uneasiness still plagued her thoughts.

Another sat by the waterside; his form monochromatic against the rich warm colours of their homeland. While she wasn't familiar with his face, his scent carried what she needed to know - he wasn't an intruder.

"Halò," (hello) she greeted, approaching him boldly and seating herself along the riverbank as well. "thu fhèin ullachadh?" (preparing yourself?) it was almost as if electricity flowed within her veins; each hair upon her body alight with apprehension. While she was steeling herself and repeated her mantra that she was ready for what was to come, a part of her was also a scared young girl. Her elder brother had perished in the previous war, her father visibly marred and her elder sister taken. She was worried about what would happen this time, even though she wanted to believe that they would win this time. She was her fathers daughter, through and through, and she was determined to make him proud out on the battlefield.

It was never hard for the boy to be lulled into a more calmer state while embraced by the elements and in the presence of the mother land's many feats. So rarely was he caught off guard, his shoulders tense, hackles always teetering on being raised any time he was outside of the fortress. He was always ready to wield his sword, always ready to spill a little blood. But when the girl approached him, he was so far from his usual self that he would greet her presence with a jolt. His focus was snapped away from the river when he first heard her voice. "Halò," the girl spoke, so easily did she stride forward to place herself in a similar spot. He began to take in her features, each paw step of hers would burn their marks into the earth beneath her, and her eyes would scortch all they raked over. "thu fhèin ullachadh?" there was always something soothing and satisfying hearing the native tongue fall from a true highlander's tongue. His ears would flick, ocean green hues washed over her as she finished speaking.

Before his own words would spill from steely kissers, he would turn back to the view infront of him. A sigh first left his lips, slowly shaking his head from side to side as he came to a realization. tha mi air co-dhùnadh bòidhchead ar dachaigh a mhealtainn a-nis, " (i have decided to enjoy the beauty of our home now,) he would pause, watching the river flow, the horizon offer its endless views. Then, he turned his head, and his eyes fell down just a touch meet her fiery red's. is dòcha nach bi e comasach dhuinn sin a dhèanamh anns na mìosan a tha romhainn ...(we may not be able to do so in the coming months...). His face didnt change as his words of subtle doubt poured from his lips. Though they erre left vague. The only thing certain I'm the future was bloodshed across the country, none of them knew who would be coming home, or who would never be seeing the highlands again. He wanted to fight the doubt away, no matter how big or small it was inside of him. But realistically, he was just a boy learning the woes of the world, and what better way than to learn through the grueling ways of war that would surely meet him face to face some day soon. Realizing he was lost in his own head for a moment there, he searched hers briefly before pulling his eyes away from her, his head turning back to where it was faced when she first approached him.

A moment went by before a faint smile creased his kissers. "Mar sin ciamar a thèid aig nighean a’ chinn-chinnidh air sleamhnachadh air falbh bho bhallachan an daingnich? (so, how does the Chief's daughter manage to slip away from the walls of the fortress? ) he knew of her, and her family. It was hard not to know. And now, it would seem they would all learn of one another one way or another if they were called to the battlefields.

code & art by claerie

Her presence jolted him, and for a brief second she wondered if she had been that stealthy, or perhaps the boy was lost in thought. With the tensions of war gripping their entire nation, she wouldn't be surprised if it was more the latter. It was almost as if he was taking in their scenic homeland for the last time - enjoying the sounds and allowing it all to wash over him. And maybe he was right - nothing was certain anymore, as much as she wished it to be. But at they could do now was stand firm in their resolve, and win their rights back.

he sighed before answering her. "tha mi air co-dhùnadh bòidhchead ar dachaigh a mhealtainn a-nis," their mother tongue slipped gracefully over his tongue; his grasp of the language solidifying to her that he was truly one of them. A Jacobite. A real Highlander - not one of those peasants that fluctuated between lands. A single eyebrow raised in curiosity then, feeling the doubt in his words within her own heart. Even so, she frowned.

"feumaidh sinn fuireach làidir airson Iacob." (we must stay strong for Jacob) she urged, "ach tha mi tuigsinn..." (though I understand...) she was quiet for a moment, rubies searching the pale emeralds that adorned his dark face. They were in this together, and through hell or high water she would pull him through alongside her. "ni sinn e fein agus ar n-aithriche uaill. chì thu - dìreach creideamh a bhith agad. bithidh an fhae ag amharc." (we will make him and our ancestors proud. you will see - just have faith. the fae will be watching) she forced a small smile to her face, leaning towards him to bump her shoulder into his much larger form.

It was after this that he questioned how she had been able to get away, as Chieftains daughter. And for some reason, this observation made her cheeks flush. A smirk painted her maw as she rolled her shoulders in a carefree shrug.

"tha iad uile air am buaireadh, agus bha feum agam air èadhar ùr. tha mi tinn le anail ann an cuid eile fallas agus anail stinky." (they are all distracted, and i needed some fresh air. i'm sick of breathing in others sweat and stinky breath) she raised her nose in the air dramatically, though peered at him out of the corner of her red eye with mirth. With a quiet laugh, she then turned to look at him more closely, her body angling to face him completely. "tha fios agad orm ach chan eil mi eòlach ort. Dè an t-ainm a th’ ort? carson nach fhaca mi thu nas luaithe?" (you know of me but i don't know you. what is your name? why haven't i seen you sooner?) her bright eyes were ablaze with curiosity, and she grasped this distraction fiercely in an effort to not think about the war, if only for a few moments.

He watched as a frown would fall across her face, something that didn't match the fires that were burning in those red embers of hers. "feumaidh sinn fuireach làidir airson Iacob, ach tha mi tuigsinn..." Jacob's name was one that he remembered most of all, his name being the one spoken most often and prasied or mourned while he spent his long nights in the den with his mother and father as he was growing, and within him they would instill the very virtues they expected him to carry with him as he went on in life. Those virtues were one of the few things of his parents that he was left with to carry on with him, without them.

Their eyes would chase one another's, Searla being the first one to break up the damped aura that they were both consumed in for a brief moment. He himself was too easily lost in admiration of the Crimson that burned into his hard, cold emeralds. "ni sinn e fein agus ar n-aithriche uaill. chì thu - dìreach creideamh a bhith agad. bithidh an fhae ag amharc." his little trance was broken when she bumped a shoulder into him. His brows would bury themselves lightly, only until an awkward huff of a chuckle left his muzzle. He would lean back into her. A smirk plastered across his lips as he turned his head away. Furasta, killer. (easy, killer).

His face would once more fall back to the side, watching her. Waiting for an answer to his question. First, he'd get a shrug. Then, she spoke. "tha iad uile air am buaireadh, agus bha feum agam air èadhar ùr. tha mi tinn le anail ann an cuid eile fallas agus anail stinky." he gave another half chuckle, something that was almost foreign to his own lips and ears. "Chan eil fallas an seo, - anail stinky, is dòcha. Ged nach b’ urrainn dhomh fàileadh dad dona gus an do nochd thu." (No sweat here,
- stinky breath, maybe. Though i couldnt smell anything bad until you showed up.) he would aim his nose in her direction, crinkling his snout as he inhaled closer to her after she turned her own nose up I'm the air. His emeralds watched her one opened spectacle. Giving a nod, as if saying "yep, its you that smells" he poked at her, half kidding, half seeing how hard it was to prevoke her. With that, he swung his head to the opposite side, his mass rising with in as he spun away from her, moving himself from her proximity, should she find the joke.. flavorless.

"tha fios agad orm ach chan eil mi eòlach ort. Dè an t-ainm a th’ ort? carson nach fhaca mi thu nas luaithe?" his little play was cut short, the girl finally asking about him. Is mise Aurelius (i am Aurelius). He straightened up, his gaze falling down to her face. His lips twitched in a twist. Chaidh mi còmhla ris na h-ìrean fo Jacob dìreach mar a thòisich an ràithe as t-earrach. Gheall Narina àite dha mo mhàthair anns an daingneach, nan tachradh dad dhi fhèin agus dha m’ athair... (I merged into the ranks under Jacob just as the season began in the spring. Narina promised my mother a place within the fortress, should anything happen to her and my father...) he found himself trailing off at the end, a disconnected gaze was all he offered as he turned from her and redirected his eyes towards the south. A sneer pulled at his lips, the same distaste he always had for anyone past the north's borders was the same feeling he felt when he spoke of his parents. His mother, pulled in to the protests by her own rage with the parasites of the south, and his dad that followed her. If it wasn't for a small rogue group of Imperial soldiers following fleeing protesters, they might still be here today. Instead, they were gone, and in their place was a pillar of hate that Aurelius began building the moment he heard heartaches news.

code & art by claerie

He was as easygoing as the river they sat by - the aura of him bringing a sense of calm over her rigid, tense body. Her mind had been all consumed by the impending war, having thought of nothing else since then. Her father's voice echoed in the corners of her mind, barking orders to not only her, but the entire legion as they prepared for the worst.

As loyal as she was to her familial lineage, this literal breath of fresh air was something she had been desperate for without even realizing it. This playful banter, the soft shoulder checks from a large man she didn't know. It thawed the icy edges of her form, until the frown melted away from her maw and a gentle smile instead replaced it, for the first time in what felt like months.

He made a jab towards her smell, and an incredulous look crossed her face as for a split second, she thought he was serious. He sniffed her as if to confirm his suspicions, and Searla scoffed before rolling her eyes. Through off of this though, the smile never left her lips.

"A bheil thu cinnteach nach e dìreach fàileadh a th’ annad fhèin?" (are you sure you are not just smelling yourself?) the teasing tones that wove into her voice were uncharacteristic to her, but sometimes it was nice to pretend to be someone else. A single tooth snagged over her lip as she bit into it.

Then he introduced himself - Aurelius. A strong, powerful name to match a man of equal worth. Her eyes casually sized him up, crimson jewels taking notes of his markings and colours to remember while they were fighting on the battlefield. She wanted to ensure they looked out for each other.

An ear twitched as she listened to him speak, brows furrowing a little as his voice trailed off. There was pain evident there - loss? - but she wasn't one to pry when the other didn't want to. He pulled away from her as well, eyes leaving her own and instead casting off in the distance, seeing things she didn't see.

"Nì thu uaill dhaibh, Aurelius." (You will make them proud, Aurelius.) was all she said in a lowered tone, but her voice offered him strength. While she was blessed to still have both of her parents walk this land, that didn't mean her family was not plagued by their own hardships - especially when it came to Mainlanders being involved. She had seen the scowl on his muzzle earlier; knew just from the feeling she got on what that was about. Part of her wanted to lean into him again, give support, but the other half was nervous that he would reject her. Instead, she sat in silence, though it was not uncomfortable. Searla was quickly finding herself happy to be in his company.

In the distance, voices yelled. Had her father finally caught on that she was not present? A quiet sigh left her lips.

He was in such a rare state, usually he would have dismissed himself upon Searla's arrival. And yet here he still was, indulging the girl in his identity and even sharing a laugh or two. She also wasn't his usual company, he often found himself om the training grounds with Heimdall or other's of his age to spar with.

The waters he admired with the girl was the biggest comfort to him, and perhaps that was why he was still here. It was there, but faded into the back of his mind as the girl teased and laughed right after him. Her words would tear his gaze from the scenery he focused on just as he finished speaking on the terms of his arrival to the fortress.

While he never looked directly at her, he would look just to the side of where his eyes fell previously. He would give a simple nod to her words of light encouragement. His onyx esrs swiveled atop his dome, first flicking towards the sound of voices rising just off in the distance, then to the sigh that came from Searla. A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest as steely kissers parted with his face turning to face her, while looking towards the voices they heard. B’ fheàrr leam gun a bhith air mo lorg mar an adhbhar nach eil thu far am bu chòir dhut a bhith an-dràsta. Gus an ath thuras, Searla. (I would rather not be discovered to be the reason you arent where you should be right now. Until next time, Searla. ) Later could be tomorrow, it could be in a week. It could even be on the battle field. Time would tell. He would offer her a nod as he took his leave, trailing off along the banks of the river.

exit aurelius

code & art by claerie