Magnolia Glen frost fire

Private RE for @Armand
You've come across a cache of stored apples, preserved but fully fermented. Cheers!

Siv found hunger and loneliness, hand in hand.

Yet perhaps some fortune shined in her favor that day as she found a long abandoned place. Some non-wolves had surely made use of it for the delightful treasures she had found. Fermented fruits, a whole trove left behind for her own indulgence.

It would not feed her, but it would soothe her soul for the night and make the morning more welcomed tomorrow when she woke alone again. All of the lonely days of travel would be worth it, she knew it.

Even if she wished there was someone to share this with as she mashed the first apple between her teeth.

Armand was still in a mood about, well, everything. He skulked through wet snow, dripping ice pelting his back and skull, an irritated scowl utterly at home upon his muzzle. Then he scented a stranger, one who smelled of winter but not of the mountain valley. An unattached party, or so he dearly hoped. His pace picked up slightly, but still he aimed to be quiet, relatively cautious until the other was in view and could be assessed on more than their musk.

She was eating, and that nearly made him second-guess approach. There was no blood in the air, however. Instead, whatever she snacked upon smelled soured and reminiscent of berries, for he'd yet to experience fruit. Curiosity won over, and the small yearling approached. Ready to bolt at any given moment if needed to survive.

"... hello."

A soft voice, no different than a breeze.

How pungent was the fruit she had snacked upon? One apple surely would not have caused hallucinations. So she lifted her head, pale blue eyes looked around the opening of magnolias where she found him. Petite but no less a man. Colored of winter but in different ways. Pale with the colors of the last foliage before it fell away.

"Come closer." She welcomed him at once. Relieved to have company as usual. It would have been wiser to be on guard but she felt...festive. Joyous even.

As such, she delicately plucked up one apple and rolled it (as well as it would, across snow with its soft outer) his direction. The fruit would be better with company to share.

OLD NORSE | COMMON
speaks with a harsher nordic accent

There were stories about things like this, weren't there? Women who appeared out of nothing just to lure the unwitting to some unwanted fate... He blinked down at the object offered to him, and then looked up again at the one who had gifted it. Part of him, perhaps irrational, perhaps perfectly sane, wanted to decline and continue on without taking a bet on the veracity of bedtime tales.

"Why?" he asked instead of accepting, though he did not back away nor turn up his nose at the proffered fruit. Was it really so simple as a fellow pack animal seeking company, or was she looking for something out of him? His mother's distrust had certainly been inherited.

"What do you want?"

She wished she had been so reasonable. Instead she had invited a stranger closer. Perhaps he protected both of them with his questions.

"It is winter. Few of us roam and I am alone. I want company." No fruit could be blamed for the honesty she displayed to him now. It was simply truth and she smiled softly for a moment before it faded into neutral nothingness again. Lest she scare him off entirely and be left with only a memory! A memory of company was more unpleasant than any bad company in the flesh.

"It is not meat, but food is food."

And her belly would find warmth with the fermented fruits, a welcomed feeling indeed.

OLD NORSE | COMMON
speaks with a harsher nordic accent

Her answer was simple and believable enough. Armand hesitated a moment more, then picked up the apple with his small teeth. It was softer than anticipated, juices already dribbling over his chin and coating his tongue. Different and stinging, but also... nice? He took a few more strides closer, but halted just out of reach. Still prepared for things to spiral suddenly. He lowered onto his haunches, and took a full bite of the fruit.

"Je suis Armand," he introduced, showing off his own linguistic differences for little reason at all, "Et toi?"

He hadn't come across someone with her accent before, and certainly found it curious. Maybe she had stories to tell? He finished the apple in a few more wet bites, and also felt warmth beginning to burn in his stomach.

He impressed her!

She had not once heard this language that he rolled across his tongue. Had he thought she did? Perhaps she was flattered but instead she only called back with a warmth —

"Út-lænninge!"

Foreigner was the title bestowed upon him now. Her own mother tongue warmed her too, a reminder of home even if he would not understand. It seemed both had left their worlds behind to plunge into new ones.

"You come from far?"

Her eyes were bright and she bestowed another apple upon him before she took one for herself as well. If he shared his tongue, she would share plenty more apples. Until they grew too woozy or the apples ran out.

OLD NORSE | COMMON
speaks with a harsher nordic accent

She seemed filled with sunshine itself at that, catching him off-guard yet again. He watched her with amusement now, not much minding that he didn't know what 'út-lænninge' was meant to be, and happily accepted the second morsel. Maybe this really was just a little stroke of luck. The universe did owe him, after all.

"Very far," he answered confidently, rolling the squishy fruit between the snow and a forepaw idly before settling in for consumption.

"Père et I traveled together most of my life to get to this land."

The lies always came so effortlessly, and he didn't even care why.

"Et toi? And you?"

(This post was last modified: Jan 14, 2024, 06:13 AM by Armand.)

What was it like where he had come from?

Of course, in her heart, she imagined mountains and snow. Those were the things she yearned for, though. Those were the things that her home had been known for. Being here had already proven that not everyone lived in such places.

She thought fondly of Marigold and her tall trees.

"Far, far north. Cold and snow and ice! Mountains for miles." All of this spoken with a distinguished pride in her voice, a tail that whipped up gentle flurries of snow behind her. Her cheeks warmed with the memories and the fruit.

"I have come to see new things, new land. You have done same?" There was a ferocity, a hunger in her voice. "Or you come with mission?"

OLD NORSE | COMMON
speaks with a harsher nordic accent

North. Then he shall have come from the south. Armand mentally noted the information to further his fib, oblivious to the chance that his choice of meal might swiftly erase such detail from his mind. Mountains for miles... he imagined an endless Serpents Pass, of being trapped in a place like Sanguine Cove. No wonder the stranger had left home, though she did sound quite fond while recollecting.

Another choice was given, and he used consumption as an excuse to think about his answer. His head was starting swim pleasantly, and it was then he realized the fruit was having some kind of effect. He blinked down at the mushy matter, then regarded Siv. Satisfied that his company would be equally affected, rather than put at an advantage. Armand leaned into the relaxation his inebriation offered.

"Père était un Roi, a great leader when he was years younger. Trahi, betrayed by un frère bâtard, a meritless half-sibling who thought himself clever."

He picked at the ice and snow betwixt his toes, quite pleased with his little story.

"We are here for revenge."