[SWP] little squirrels

[Random Events]

The morning dawns, and the Court rises like the sun with it. Oriens does not stir as the black-coated woman watches him from the trees - is he not doing the same? The god is a sentinel, guarding the trees the same way Sloane guards him. Each of them is cautious: shy and wary, as if waiting for the other to make the first move. He does not speak, does not call out and welcome her - nor does he ignore her.

“Somnus.” He inclines his head to the golden Sovereign, and in an instant his spell is break. One ear tilts towards the stallion, listening intently, but his eyes remain trained on the forest with its distant flames.

“For now,” he agrees. “I believe they should stay that way. Your people have fought the flames well.” Oriens takes the arrival of Ulric and Eulalie in stride, nodding his head to welcome them both. A smile even quirks at the corner of his mouth, small and fleeting though it is.

“It is hard when they speak a different language,” he concedes. “But it may prove easier than you think, Ulric. Some things are universal.”

And just like that, as if knowing they were being talked about, the squirrels appear. Shadows in the forest leap from tree to tree when no one is looking, the keratin spines along their back twitching and clicking softly against each other.

One shows itself, then another: a pair who tentatively leave the safety of the forest (for with their flame-resistant bodies and ability to inhale smoke, the fire itself is their haven.) Orients inclines his head towards them, his breath a mere sigh of the wind.

“Shall we try?”

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