#earthrunes

"I do.. Oh, sometimes I would let them start to remember, to call the names out loud inn their sleep. Margret, oh Jenn... and the shame would sufficate them... then, I buried their memories again" a soft lauggh "Innn their heads. Their hearts? oh a bit more cracked"

Velvet, at least, is surely perceptive enough to see that Vince is on edge. Teeth gritted behind polite smile.

Velvet writes, but she looks sympathetic

"Oh Vince" She says "There is nothing like taking the love between two people, pure and strong, and soiling it"

"I can see that you were a master at your art. Surely no other can compare with you. Neither master, nor... student?" Inquiring. "I suppose it would also help gain boons, as you could surely sell access to some of the lesser folk who may wish to sup at your table."

"Ah, commoners, we Leannhaun do love them so... we really do. But unfortunately some are a touch.. limited in their mindsets. If the boy had asked, even in a whisper, I miggh have taught, but he spied you see? And tried to interfere. One can't leave a sluagh working againnst one. I had to arrange for his removal. Not death, of course, that's tacky, but a new home. Varich are always looking for entertainment against old foes"

"How rude, how rude. It might be helpful to know of such a lord or lady? One never can tell when one might need to dispose of something uncomfortable." He refills her drink.

"Oh the Varich I can tell you off, not my employer" She hiccups

"Please, do tell."

"Sir Demyon, lives in Bloody oak barony... Iowa I think? Ah, he even invited me to the hunt."

"Iowa, you say. Dreadful place. Unless you are fond of squash. Pray, what was the boy's name? I do so like to properly attribute."

Velvet's eyes have grown large, then shimmer with quiet malice

"I love a good hunt myself, after all, I AM a predator at heart." He gives his mane a shake.

"the boy's name? I.. barely remember. odd. .. he was sained but a year.. two years ago? In Earth Runes itself. But vanished to find another namer"

"I do remember his look" She describes he slaugh, casuually

And Velvet's eyes widen again. She knows this young man, the one Zara sained!

"It is quite, quite astonishing that you managed so much, all on your own." He leads into another question. "Unless you had assistance? That is to say, such a fine lady as oneself must find folk tripping over themselves to serve you. If I were at liberty myself, I would be quite eagerly scratching at your door."

"Oh, the men did what I wanted even when they did not understand" she waves it off "it helped keep my secret. For a time"

If she had any changeling help past the initial set up, she seems to think them inconsequential

She is now quite drunk. She must be used to lighter wines

Vince stands, his chair pushed back with a scrape. "I apologize. I fear I am quite late for another appointment. I wish you everything you deserve, Lady Lialeh." He carefully drapes the veil back over her lips.

An odd, but not strictly uncourteous farewell. Though he does forget to bow on his way out, what can one expect? He is but a common soul, if a polite and handsome one.

As soon as her turns away, his eyes can be seen flashing as he steps out the door, leaving Velvet and August alone with the lady, for now.

A muffled slured protest, but soon the Leanhaun slides to a drunken sleep

August observes her state (not the first time he's seen such an achievement) and touches Velvet's shoulder. It may break the spell, but there's no need for secrecy now. Together they follow Vince.

Vince... is gone. He has disappeared off somewhere.

"i hate that woman.." Velvet whispers as they go "Poor Vincent, he.. he's gone" Even her keen senses make neither hide nor hair

"I will write him an invitation and a thank you note."

"May I have your notes?"

He takes the notes, and dismisses Velvet with a suggestion she seek out Tylar (and Benny, of course) and then takes himself to locate Coradel.

(fin)

Elsewhere, not within the hold proper, but outside, in the nearby area, not the city, a little more wild. Perhaps more wild than usual, for a LION stalks.

Nearby, a river sits silent, nearly frozen solid - at least, on the surface.

A frozen, dead tree is regarded, then pounced, as massive claws rip and tear, rending the bark and wood alike. Smash! Crash! Branches are torn, and the dry wood groans under his weight.

“It’s going to be a jungle of a day: if I start growling now. I’ll never last.” A whisper.

The whisper doesn't carry to the beast's ears - normally so tender and gentle, something has him in a frightful state.

Another shove, and with a roar, the dead tree topples over, crashing to the frozen ground. He pounces atop it and continues to rend the flesh of his enemy - er, no, the wood of the tree, with pawstrikes that gouge out deep rents into the wood, smashing it to pieces.

Zara can wait.

Eventually the tree is a mangled heap of dead scraps, and the lion flops over atop it. Eyes still flashing, but with nothing else to vent upon. A growl that sounds more like a groan, an unhappy sound.

“Well ‒ what shall we hang? The holly or each other?” The wood creaks softly as someone sits down at the lion's side.

He turns, and the fire fades mostly from his eyes - banked, and he drops his massive head upon her lap.

"Aye." She strokes his mane, and scritches at his ears.

It takes some time. Whatever had bothered the lion left him deeply rattled, a soul that would normally brush away rather than swat even a mosquito. Eventually though, the claws recede into paws, leaving them soft velvet pads once more.

He sighs, and looking up at her, lays a paw over his eyes.

"Aye." Soft, sympathetic.

He nods, and once more motions, covering his eyes from view so he cannot see her.

Zara lifts her hands over her own eyes.

After a moment, the weight lessens, and there is a beast-like man with his head upon her lap, rather than a man-like beast.

His eyes red, with tears that an animals cannot shed.

Zara simply pets his hair. She might not be so skilled as a pooka, but she is there.

"I am ever so glad that everyone is like me, as beautiful on the inside as on the outside." He says softly, even in his sorrow, still touched by vanity.

"Ah, were it so."

"I wouldst forever spend my life here, but I am afraid it is not fated to be. You needs must speak to the squire of shadows."

"..Velvet?"

"As velvet as my paws, and as secretly barbed, as are thou."