I didn't hear them coming. I didn't smell the scent of Avdotya whom I'd met at least once. I didn't smell the sadistic stallion that traveled beside her. I'm fucking drunk, it's to be expected that the sky could crash down around me and I probably wouldn't wake even then. A loud snore emits from my lips as they converse, easily drowning out any noise that might reach my ears. Even Damaris was fairly sound asleep, dreaming of the future, her future with Rostislav.

But a hound's hearing is much better than a drunk ogre. Her ears twitch as they approach, registering the noise as part of the background rejoicing, something to be processed out. When they discuss their plans of abduction, however, a threat looms dark and dominating in her dreams. Damaris whines, shifting restlessly, not aware yet that her dreams are trying to TELL her something. To warn her of....

The glance of a spear wakes her. Her eyes snap open, pupils immediately adjusting to the darkness. The dark snout lifts, nostrils immediately catching the scent of something unfamiliar. She trains her gaze on the strangers, a low, fierce growl passes between them as she bares her fangs. Sickly green acid drips down them. But just as she prepares to alert me, to wake me from my stupor, she feels her body begin to stiffen. Her limbs sluggish in movement, something metallic glints and clinks in the darkness. A muzzle. It slips on easily, and another threatening growl slips out.

She continues to stiffen, and in a moment she's lying back down. Her joints ache like an old woman's before a storm. She whines again. Rostislav! Wake up, you have to run! Danger! ROSTISLAV! She pleads through their bind as her lids grow heavy, slowly drooping. Another moment, and she has passed out.

The tether between us twangs as she shouts my name, and I shift slightly. She says it again, even more urgently, and my mind begins to rearrange the fumbled puzzle it's fallen into. My lids slowly open, silver eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness. Groggy as hell, still drunk. As I begin to come to, it hits me that the tether between Damaris and I has gone silent. Deadly silent. Then a voice croons over me - "Solis sends his regards." I flinch and glance up to see a somewhat familiar face. My heart nearly stops, then thrashes in my chest as the danger we are in hits home. Damaris! Dama-- My head slightly lifted, I can see she is still in the grass, breathing lightly with a golden muzzle around her beautiful, dangerous jaws.

My insides begin ripping apart, needing no assistance from weapons to destroy. I can hear my blood pounding in my head, and I snarl up at Avdotya. "You bitch!" I hiss through clenched teeth. "I promise you will pay for this. Not for me-" I glance at my companion. "For her!" I spit, eyes glinting with the steel of resolve. I have no doubt I'm at their mercy, but the promise I give is one I fully intend to keep. NO ONE hurts Damaris and goes unpunished.

WC: 526
Tag: @Avdotya @Velorca
Rosti thoughts | Rosti speech | Damaris mindspeak

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

glitter and gold is the man in the chair
rings on his fingers, and a hardened harsh stare

He watched with a cold detachment as Avdotya pierced the dogs skin with her spear, an admirable throw, though it was a skill he was well aware she possessed. He didn't protest as she grabbed one of his chains, though he curled his lip slightly, the only show of irritation he would give when it came to the warrior woman - blood of his blood, Davke, not Day Court. 

The dog barely struggled, though Lorca's keen eyes slid to Rostislav as he began to shift upon the ground, the silent screaming of his pet waking him, no doubt. Solis sends his regards. Solis, not Maxence. He would have provided a dangerous smile at the words had the big brute not awoken and started barking at them. Lorca looked to Avdotya lazily, ignoring the threats spilling from their victims mouth. 

"Stick him with it so he shuts up. It would be best if all of Denocte didn't know we were here."

Staring at Rostislav with distaste, Velorca suddenly wondered what the Warden had done to provoke Maxence. He had defected only after Maxence had risen to power, probably a good move, considering. Certainly Maxence couldn't think that returning a refugee was a good start to his rule - or starting a war with one of their most well known, powerful adversaries. Fucking idiot.

Still, Lorca was in no mood to complain (what?), at least not with Avdotya around to hear him. Perhaps a war would be a good way to eradicate foreign rulers once and for all - he glanced at the warrior woman in subtle admiration - she'd done it before, why not again? 

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@Rostislav @Avdotya Lorca being douchey again