This wretched season had quickly come to be even worse than the blight that had been Winter, yet Sven could not truly place why. There were plenty of reason, but there was a core to them that could not be described by the naive youth. He had suspicions, the primal knowledge base within him feeding him clues enough, but nothing was known. All he knew was that his aunt @Morganna was consistently absent and smelled of strange men upon each return, and that she and the other females carried a worrisome change of scent that simultaneously piqued his curiosity and thoroughly revolted him. Even Hecate had donned the poisonous perfume, and Sven had simply learned to avoid the lot of them altogether.
Still, he crossed paths, and sometimes was sought out, which he would not avoid. Occasionally he would lift his nose and allow a toothy scowl to pass his lips, making his disdain evident, but a word was never spoken on the matter.
Then something changed.
For days he had been considering the options, attempting to convince himself that what his instincts told him were the facts had to be utterly wrong. The longer the turmoil existed solely within his mind, however, the more difficult it became to ignore, until finally the Archer heir knew he had no choice but to confront the problem head on. So he sought out Hecate, the woman who held an unallowable amount of his father's musk upon her along with something else lowkey and sinister.
He sought her out, easily tracking her down, and without ceremony voiced one single line once she was within earshot, every bit an accusation.
"You fucking reek."