Ghastly Woods verbum sapienti

Mapplethorpe fought the urge to scowl. She had stated a name for a name, but he had not anticipated her hesitance in extended her own. She gave it nonetheless after she revealed that she had nothing to hide. Ava. Pity... The corner of his mouth twitched; he considered that only fools bore all that made them who they were, but - firstly, this Ava was no fool (in fact, she seemed to be just as cunning as he was, a near-perfect equal to his wordsmith-borne ways), and, secondly, perhaps, he was a creature who considered everything about him as a secret.

"As for you, Thorpe," her voice had him half-curled around her dainty pitch black digits, "you happen to look just the slightest like your Queen, from a distance." His brow finally furrowed. "That's why I'm here." She grinned and he tipped his muzzle away from her, his eyes shooting to her with a side glance. "My... Queen," he echoed, slightly amused with her choice of words. His voice failed to hide the upward note of surprise on the word that described @Naira, but the question after evened out and returned to its default tone - curious, calculating, and assuming on top of a burning desire to cover all his bases.

He nearly chuckled, "And how are you so certain she is my Queen?" He considered the fact that his pelt barely held the impression of a "lady's man," but he had just recently returned from a meeting in his leaders' stead, and wondered if the other Leaders' scents still lingered in the fibers of his pelt. Mapplethorpe arched a brow and sneered, "Just who, Miss... Ava, do you think I am?"

At first, she was unshakable. Ava knew exactly what she'd smelled and what she'd said and everything made sense. Even as he repeated her words back to her, slow and almost haughtily, the dark female refused to buy into his play. The broken record played in her mind, her eyes, her childish little grin. I know I'm right. I know I'm right. And then he chuckled, And how are you so certain she is my Queen? Well, that was obvious. To have to explain it was just tedious, perhaps something he had planted on purpose, but Ava could easily explain her train of thought if he really wanted her to prove herself. Then, she met his yellow stare.

For a moment she was puzzled - his very question begged of her to reconsider that which was fact... He smelled like the mountains. He smelled liked Naira. Wasn't it... known? Just like that his question, so easily simpered from a smirk, placed Ava in a realm of doubt. Her cocky expression from earlier slowly disappeared from view, though Ava refused to let a frown replace it. There was no time to contemplate how exactly he'd turned her around so quickly, with just words. A new mantra repeated in her mind - I'm right, aren't I? - as her jaws parted to defend her own honor.

But then Thorpe continued, and her jaws snapped shut with an eager click. She was more than thankful for his follow up question, using its position as a way to completely remove the other one from their conversation. Ava fixed herself an amused expression, chin pulling upwards and eyes narrowing as though she were about to smile wide while an ocean of uncertainty continued to swell beyond her mask. "If you're as clever as I think you are, my friend, then you ought to know." There was less force behind her accusation than their should have been, and Ava was certain the sly male could pick up on it so she added quickly, "Naira Aquila is an excellent leader. I'd think you were more proud to say so." Oops. Too far, perhaps? The taunt had edged its way into her words without her want, really. The coal-pelted female checked her cheekiness once more, but she'd already spoken. Now it was just her consequence she awaited.

art - threads

"If you're as clever as I think you are, my friend, then you ought to know." He grew still, his mask an unwavering display and confirmation that he still held his cards - his aces, his blackjack, his royal flush. A cunning smile smoothly made itself more apparent on his tawny mug. Then, "Naira Aquila is an excellent leader. I'd think you were more proud to say so."

Shock.

His jowls slowly opened, his eyes widening in disbelief of her saying such a thing. Of course, he was proud... How... How dare she! She might have been unsure in her convictions but the tone her words taken up upon the utterance of her more pointed statement about @Naira made Mapplethorpe defensively puff up. A glare seemed to make his citrine eyes light up, the makings of a snarl marring his once possibly handsome mask. His muscles tensed and his ears drew forward; his ragged tail managed to fix itself into a spiky display. "Tsk, tsk... Careful now, little raven," he warned with a click of his tongue, his tone becoming as slick as oil.

At this point, Thorpe realized his game was just about up. His hand had been busted, the ball was in her court, and she had one-upped him in an expertly fashion - a truly rare but not improbable event. He huffed, only half-impressed. Rather than admitting defeat and complimenting her wits, he made one last attempt to put up his defenses, "Don't get me wrong," he lent. "I am proud. Just... our ways and means aren't quite traditional, you see..."

His heart raced in his chest; the words coming to mind as quickly as the waves upon the shore amidst a violent hurricane. His lanky frame gave a slight shudder, but the spark that was once held captive in his eyes now brilliantly blazed. His manner in speaking seemed to change so suddenly, it even caught him by surprise, sending him reeling further. "I'm sworn to secrecy. I cannot betray her trust." He took a quick breath, his expression focusing on Ava's face to comprehend her understanding, if any, for what he was about to say next.

"You might have figured out that she is my monarch. There's absolutely no doubt about that... but who is to say I am not her King?" The words fluttering off his lips made a sudden grin light up his features, and the statement immediately after came out as though he merely breathed them in her direction, "I love her." Then his face hardened, becoming nearly marmoreal in the grayness of the Woods. The anger within him surged up and through him and laced itself into his next set of words, "Don't you ever test my pride in correlation to her. Ever." The caution in his gestures made themselves apparent as he took a step forward, his tail lifting as if to signal that this Ava character had stepped over one too many of the lines he had drawn before her.

Ava watched his reaction in slow motion, each part of it appearing as though bold and unique rather than all at once. First his eyes grew wide until she could see every last micrometer of yellow pigment, then his jaws parted, one tooth revealed at a time, until his facial expression reached a place dead in the middle of a fury of offense and outrage. Each individual hair on his nape rose at a different time, gathering into an army of anger while his ears rose and perked forward atop his head. Ava remained still yet and just as watchful as something crept into his stare and narrowed his yellow eyes, something shrewd and threatening to match the curling of his lips. But when he spoke finally it was with the utmost control, a dangerous sort of smoothness to his voice that Ava thought she might choke on his warning if she swallowed his words. Careful now, little raven.

As he continued speaking she failed to relax, the muscles beneath her inky pelt tensed as ever and any semblance of character shocked from her expression. Ava knew she had been too outspoken, and she was still awaiting punishment fitting of the crime. Perhaps yelling, or a threat, or even an attack might suffice. Thorpe's cool exterior did not satisfy her prediction, so she could not have trust in her safety. The male assured her of his pride and uttered something about their ways, in the same manner in which they'd been speaking for their entire encounter. How long would the charade go on? Each moment that passed worsened the anxiety. A tiresome fear she tried to hide from her amber eyes, but it was gettin all too long to be so still...

And then it happened, one blink and his yellow eyes caught fire, igniting something that she could barely see under the surface but could hardly understand. The worlds flew from his lips, clipped but with less precision than before. Secrecy, trust, she is my monarch, but nothing stood out like the proposition that the story had been rewritten and Thorpe was Naira's equal. Ava had been at Rhysis' side on the Mountain so she knew he was alive and well, but there'd been too much commotion between the avalanche and the interpack tensions for her to recall what scents were on who and why. A frown pulled on her features and as she heard him inhale she prayed for some further explanation, but instead he launched, I love her.

Instantly she inclined her chin slightly downward and tilted her head off to one side, eyes reflecting the quizzical uncertainty. Ava knew it was powerful to lie about love, but his anger felt real. So as he reached forward, one leg extended and his hardened stare on her, the dark she-wolf shrunk back. It was better to show him she meant no disrespect than to fight for dominance. Though she failed to bring her posture forward, her amber stare did creep from the ground toward his face once more, cautiously risking to speak. "I am not surprised," she said slowly, more choosy with her words, "that you love her. She is easy to love. Smart, strong, cunning, and beautiful no less. She is an inspiration. And we had similar precautions in revealing ourselves as well when I served her. " There was pause, only long enough to blink, but to catch her thoughts. "But I delivered the slight to you, so I apologize. Slippery tongue, slippery mind. Not a winning combination."

Smiling haphazardly she attempted redemption, squaring her shoulders in the slightest with the brightness of innocence in her gaze. "I must assure you haven't anything to fear from me, Thorpe." It was a gentle attempt to pick the pieces up, but Ava did prepare for the worst. If she had indeed soiled their encounter, she would not dwell on it. It was not in her best interest to wait on a wolf with patience lost - and as her toes gripped the dirt beneath the frost it was clear that she wouldn't face trouble here.

art - threads

A perfect definition of a splenetic soul, Thorpe tried hard to listen to her. She turned away then cautiously attempted to look into his face. He held her own like-colored irises in his glare. His ears forwardly pointed at her, as if to additionally accuse her of her foolish remarks. When she spoke again, it was apparent to the Advisor that she took utmost care in choosing her words.

For the time being, his temper seemed to edge away. The fine silver and white whiskers on each side of his nose twitched as she apologized. It came to him then that Ava had once served Naira and again his lips pursed. "Indeed," he concurred when she stated that slippery tongues did not do well with a slippery minds.

"I must assure you haven't anything to fear from me, Thorpe," she then said, her tone still very much wary of him. His upper lip lifted again to show his teeth, another warning. Rather than assuring her that he was not afraid of her - her words, actions, or otherwise - he found that he could not utter anything else other than, "Leave." The word rolled out with half a growl.

Her time with him was up and he made certain she got the message by edging forward. It might have been a bluff of sorts (in comparison to this dark lady, he was certainly not fit for physically challenging her head-on), but the seriousness settled in on the shifting of his shoulder blades. In one last attempt to ward her off, his hackles rose and he let loose a more intimidating snarl,

"LEAVE!!"

He was an odd one, the way he cycled through feeling so fast - or perhaps it was just her perception that was skewed, but the longer she sat and watched the less sure she became of what exactly was going on beneath that calculated exterior. He hadn't seemed angry - had he seemed angry? - but then his dark lips began to curl and a flash of teeth was exposed to her. For a wolf whose choice of weapon was words, she understood the value of those bared teeth. Ava was on her feet before the word even hissed between his teeth but she could feel it lapping at her ankles, friendly like an acid.

The shards of glass from their encounter were slipping through her fingers fast, and she knew better than to stay long enough to let one slice her on her way out. Still disappointment drove her to straighten her stance as the male pulled forward, the dark hairs of her nape bristling in her own warning. She had been so very careful, and so very interested in their encounter, that the abrupt ending to it - even if it was her fault - instinctively drove her to be angry for no apparent reason. But as her lips began to curl, he cut her off with a more ferocious demand to leave.

Many words had danced on her tongue, all possible ends to make sure she had gotten the last blow, but they disappeared instantly as she turned her dark head and broke eye contact. With an indignant huff the she-wolf turned her back on the mottled man and removed herself at once. Truly Ava did not believe him to attack when she was not looking - though she swore she felt his yellow stare burning the spaces between her vertebrae, all the way until she liberated herself from the creepy woods.

(exit)

art - threads

It was with a hearty and relieved smile that Mapplethorpe watched Ava - now reckoned as his liege's ex-attendant - heed his word. Watching as the last bit of her, her tail, fled from his sight, he snarled again, just to be sure that if anyone had been watching or near the area, he made it clear he was still quite a force to regard. His arched tail swayed slowly from side to side above his rump before becoming completely motionless and as seconds passed into minutes, he glanced over the trunks of the skeleton-trees.

The forest seemed to have gone back to its normal activity. The air became too still and it felt as though someone - someone who was not Ava - was watching him again. He scoffed at himself as he replayed the conversation that had been had in his head, recalling every pass, every comment, every warning. Cunning, little raven...

He scoffed before allowing himself to ease up a little. One step back and once more glance around confirmed that he was free to reclaim the dead rabbit in his half-finished cache. There was no use in storing away his meager meal if there were going to be wolves of the likes of the dark woman up and about. Clutching the stiff leporid in his jowls, he set off at a run, determined to climb back up the Pass and give what was left of his kill to his beloved @Naira instead.

(EXIGO.)