A stifling summer wind whipped its way along the day court streets, kicking up sand as it went, twisting and twirling around corners and down alleyways. Teiran moved along the sand covered roads like a shadow, silent and smoothly, unbothered by the grit that was flung against her body by the breeze. It was quiet, silence stretching along every wall and through every hall. There was little movement, little activity, and the hovering solitude suited her just fine.

Most of the nobles had probably hidden themselves away in their homes, lavishing themselves in their fineries away from the mid-afternoon sun lest their skin be damaged or they themselves perspire in the heat. Still, many others clung to the shadows, darkening the ends of alleys with their blackmarket trades and questionable intentions. Teiran’s sage eyes took everything in with the barest of flickers, subtle sideways glances and a twist of her ear here and there. She observed completely without ever looking like she observed at all.

Though the court recovers, the people recover, there will always be lingerings of the transgressions against them in wearied, wary eyes and scoured walls. Keen as the serpentine girl was meant she had seen the blue fire that had risen from the pass to Denocte and she wondered: what transgression had befallen their neighbors of night? So long as it was no threat for her home and her people, she had little unease of the situation though she would be wrong to admit she had no curiosity at all.

Teiran paused alongside a fountain, dipping her head to drink from the crystalline water. Its mist brought a coolness to the air that soaked up some of the swelter brought upon them by the sun as it nipped at the backs. Solterra carried so much unforgiveness within it that it was no wonder why Solis’ people were hardened as they were. Though, perhaps, that had been changing in recent weeks. The rose hued warrior’s ears latched onto the sound of approaching steps, and her eyes slid over the reflection of another as she finished drinking and straightened to meet their arrival.

@Shrike but anyone is welcome to join in!

The other woman drank and Teiran took a moment to observe her. She did not recognize the dark eyed paint, keenly and quickly taking in little details that others might find unimportant. A newcomer, most likely, but there is a certain quality to the way she carried herself, to the light in her eyes, that says she has seen, perhaps even been a part of, the battles that had wracked their streets not too long ago. Curious, that. Did she fight for her own safety, or perhaps for the thrill? Why fight for a place that was not your home.

“I suppose we would all eventually perish, wouldn’t we?” she said without fanfare, voice rather monotonous, “Unless another Court offered aid, or we could find another source of water quickly.” There was the oasis, of course, although the constant trips out there in order to quench their thirst would almost be a waste considering the distance and the heat. To imagine a time during which all of Solterra succumbed to dehydration was almost laughable. What a pathetic end for a bunch of lifelong desert dwellers.

“You’re a newcomer,” a statement, an assumption based on her earlier thoughts. It was almost strange for Teiran to think about being outside Solterra. She had never left. She was born inside this court’s walls and she would surely die within them as well, one day. Probably the mouse hued woman would go out fighting. She’d be damned if she didn’t take anyone else down with her, too. “Why here?”

Admittedly she was curious. Teiran assumed the other courts were far more bearable. Less sun bleached, less dust to coat you every second of the day. Still, and she was certainly biased, but there was a lot to like about her home. Granted, some of that had to do with the hardiness that seemed to flourish within, the toughness of its people. There was a certain beauty to the endless quality of the sand, the way the sun shined off it like it were the sea. Regardless, Teiran was too attached and loyal to go anywhere else.

@Shrike

If they do, then Solterra is not their mother," she said, wild and unforgiving as the desert is, "the sun does not bleed through their veins, the smell of the sand does not cling to their skin." And it is not that she would think less of anyone who this did not apply to, it is not that she thinks any who might leave are cowardly or somehow less Solterran than she, who would never leave. It is that she was raised surrounded by others who were filled with the same blind, unquestionable devotion as she. It is that she did not understand that there were those who would not lay down their life for the Day Court, regardless of what comes, as she would.

Teiran's sage green eyes roamed deftly over the ivory and red mare's face, noting the way she averted her own eyes and the downturn of her lips. Try as she did to place the expression, the rosy woman struggled. Shame, uncertainty? The other's cryptic response offered little assistance in the matter but how she came to be on Novus, let alone within Solterra, was curious for one who had never left the confines of their little corner of the world.

Teiran had never known anything but the sand and the sun and the court, and she had no reason to feel discontent. Despite the things that had happened in her youth she could not imagine leaving, had in fact been trained to believe in nothing, trust in nothing, but her court. Even after the deaths of both Zolin and Viceroy and the following chaos in which their little child army had fallen to pieces, she had never learned any differently. How could she, with nobody to show her there was another way? Many other ways, even.

"Your decision to come here was smart," she said, and it was perhaps as much of a compliment as the soldier would give anyone. When the medicine cap asked Teiran whether she would recommend staying in Solterra, she well and truly considered it. The simple answer was yes. She could fight, and had fought with them against the Davke. She seemed to have good sense, and Teiran could respect the fact that she seemed to talk about as much as herself.

The more important answer, however, was, "You should only stay if it feels like the right choice for you." Perhaps, if she had once been given a choice, she would be living a very different life.

@Shrike 

Teiran did not miss the sharpening of the other woman’s eyes upon her, did not miss the way she watched her nor the inflection in her voice that spoke to something else. Something akin to appreciation, which she did not understand. What she also could not understand, could not know, is the way her companion was reminded of someone else, someone important to her, someone who was not here in the desert sands, beneath the unforgiving sun. If there was a heart string pulling the medicine cap in another direction, Teiran did not see.

“Maybe,” she replied, though there was really little introspection to the word, “but it didn’t, did it?” Had the rose hued warrior ever thought that she would fail against the Davke? Honestly, no. When she fought, she thought of nothing but victory, of tearing down anyone who stood in the path to her people’s safety and wellbeing. She thought of nothing else, and she would do whatever it took to ensure such things were maintained. It was not a matter of choice.

Her sage green eyes slicked over the woman as she spoke, lifting her head and stretching. Was it diplomatic? Teiran had little knowledge of politics, other than what she has discerned over her time among the Court. What she had said simply seemed like the proper thing to say. Was it not courtesy to do do something other than demand? Perhaps then, she was allowing too much, over observing. Somehow she managed to keep finding herself in positions where she needed to socialize with very little knowledge on how to do such a thing properly.

Fortunately for her, it seemed she was going to fed an out like a dog a bone, and Teiran gladly snatched at it. “It is wise. The desert, she is a fickle thing.” Her statement was not ironic, or joking. More souls than she cared to count would have been swallowed up by the desert over the years. Some, perhaps, still lingered, forever wandering the sands as though trapped. Besides, the Davke may very well still be out there, while Day Court licked its wounds, planning to return.

“I need to get back to my patrol. If you are interested in a job, I can show you to where they are working to clear the streets,” an offer, of sorts, and the warrior stepped away from the fountain and made to head back to the maze of sand covered streets, empty doorways and dark alleys. Soon she would be prowling again, her shadow falling over every nook and cranny. She paused, only for a moment, to look back over her shoulder and say “Call me Teiran,” before setting off. Should Shrike decide to follow, Teiran could not say she would wholly dislike the company. If not, well, perhaps they would meet again in the future.

@Shrike Teiran out <3