take care to bury all that you can
take care to leave a trace of a man
☩
As he watched like a lion over his pride, eyes of seven seas praising the gold-cloaked landscape of the Mors, he hoped— no, prayed she would come.
It was no longer a matter of weeks, days or hours. In minutes the Solterran patriarch would begin his journey from the den of lion's into the crows murder on his own to seek out the night king and seek whatever resolution possible. Maxence could feel in his gut that the task was frought with danger, and his decision to leave Avdotya and Seraphina with the day court was one he had not made lightly. If they all did not return, struck down by a flock of birds and picked on like carrion, who would save Solterra?
For this reason he waited alone on the dune, the last sliver of sun bidding farewell over a red desert. Avdotya— would she farewell him? The others he had mellowly praised upon exit of the court, thanking each of his people that came to wish him luck and bless him with Solis's light.
But the one he wished to see the most was one who had eluded him as he made his solemn departure.
And so the stallion would wait, harnessed and cloaked in fur, ready for battle. There were always minutes he would spare for the bear-marked shieldmaiden, and quite simply, if she would not come he would no longer wait.
Whether or not he could leave without her luck, her blessing and her wicked gaze of fire was a question that began to linger upon his mind— what if he never saw her again?
She had been absent upon his departure, no where to be seen while he bid farewell to those of Solterra.
In fact, Avdotya had become something of a ghost to the halls of the capitol. Her hooves did not touch its polished floors, but instead sunk gently in the sands of the Mors as they had since she was a small child. The desert was where she thrived and that was where the woman had retreated to for a lull in the political field she so desired- but lose track of the days she hadn't, and when it came time, she turned her sights back to Solterra's hub.
By now, as Solis relinquished his hold on Novus for another day, she presumed Maxence had already left for Denocte. She didn't take him for the type to wait for goodbyes, yet as she crested a slow-rising dune, his winged silhouette caught her raptorial eye. The mare paused, wondering if he had perhaps thought twice about his journey to the Night Court. Avdotya knew little of his plans for Reichenbach when he finally met with him, but in her mind he was not worth the time nor effort had any ideas of reparation come to Maxence's mind. If the theft - and a brief one with little harm done, at that - of one man was enough to offend an entire nation, they were a people of soft minds and therefore weak by her standard. Had any member of the Davke been stolen as Rostislav had, he would have been forgotten the moment his drunken body was dragged away.
Nevertheless, Avdotya abandoned her thoughts and focused on what now stood before her. "Hiding in the desert will not bring you any closer to Caligo's cesspool," the woman cooed as she approached, her velvet lips wry with a half-smile, "but maybe that is not what the sovereign of Day is doing here, anyway..."
