This post is hidden due to the following trigger warning: thoughts of violence
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Nothing of particular interest had happened in the new world. Winter crawled by unimpressively, being a blur of hunting, cold and seeking shelter, and short days and long nights that contributed to a spiral of depressive seclusion Harvey had self-inflicted as the reality of their situation sank in. She realized they were not going home. They could not find their people. More than likely, if the other Amulet weren't also scattered, their role as Monarch had already been replaced. Harvey just hoped it wasn't Harkon, gods how they hoped. Harkon was beloved family, but otherwise not the vision Harvest had for their Court.
She'd had so many visions for how she would craft and build the Amulet's name, their power, bring the whole of the Haven back to the harmony they so deserved, and now...All those dreams, dashed, like the fragile bones of a bird fallen from the sky.
The only thing Harvest had left of her home was Daryn, strange Daryn, mischievous Daryn, Daryn who prodded at Harvey's boundaries whether she was in the mood to tolerate it or not.
And they could rely on none of her usual methods for managing annoying things, because she wasn't home, she'd been be-spelled to some strange land!
Harvest had finally pulled herself out of their tailspin, though, and begun moving the pair south as agreed on. Daryn's patience had been surprising, and Harvest tried not to dwell on its implications too much lest they dare to grow fond of their betrothed. That would be foolish and dangerous. They were still Autumn and Winter. And an Amulet never gave up a more favorable position over someone for something as simple and fickle as emotion, not without good reason.
Harvest was excellent at being the Amulet's perfect Autumn heir. She was beginning to realize, traversing these odd lands, she wasn't sure if she was good at much else.
In any case, the first peace she'd had in a while had finally arrived. Harvey stared at the odd structure in the distance, tree-like planks arranged to create some kind of cavern jutting from the earth. Vines wound around sticks placed to support them. Greenery dappled the range. Harvest swayed her tail at her haunches, curious about the building and stepping toward it with her shoulders back and chin up. Daryn was right nearby as always.
In some ways, they had been forced to become rather inseparable. Harvey hoped her mother would be pleased to see it if they were graced with a reunion. However, the closer to the building Harvest got, the more a sense of unease and simmering fury built beneath her usual crisp, cunning focus. Malice swirled and tainted every thought, her hackles stiffening along her spine as she walked and her mismatched gaze narrowing as she peered at her surroundings suspiciously. She needed to find the source of this strange compellation, this odd spell befallen her. Perhaps it was the way home. Perhaps it was just a way for her to vent her growing frustrations on something that she had decided deserved her fangs sunk into it.
The Amulet lowered her crown slightly as she walked, tail lashing at her hips as she stalked toward the house. The scent of blood blossoming on the wind was the only thing that gave her pause in her fevered search, a low snarl silent but held readied in her throat as she paused and glanced around. Bird and hare, and then the sound of snarled voices all too close. Too close, too close to what Harvest wanted, needed to find and destroy. The spell rattled in her limbs, pulled that snarl free of her throat at last as she scented two others in the range of the spell's effect as well. She glanced over her shoulder, her normally unnaturally neutral and unnervingly calculated visage a now-contorted and instinctive reflection of the wrath unleashed within her breast.
Harvest was not a creature to be crossed; the blood of the Amulets ran through her veins. The opportunity to find the source of this power was hers alone. And she was more than willing to employ her odd betrothed in her soon-to-be-bloody effort to find it.
Some part of Harvest - the cold, clever part, the Monarch who had earned her seat at the top through guile and not gutting, urged her to exercise restraint. She swiped her tongue along her maw, rooting her paws to the spot to remain tucked, hidden, around the corner from where she could hear a fight breaking out.
harvest can be skipped after 2 days if it's my turn to keep the thread moving!