[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

Tag: Alaric

---

She looked for herbs, and this took her away from Dawnbreak. In some way, Euphemia considered the lands just beyond her Vale as a part of the pack’s claimed lands. She walked upon it with the confidence of such, though she could no more oust an intruder than she could catch a fly. She mused as she perused. Perhaps that's why she had not been elected as the Pillar of Courage: not for lack of want, but because she was simply less physically fit for the job.

Somehow, the thought had never occurred to Euphemia before now. It was a truth she could mentally handle.

After she had realized it, she thought about it far more than she thought about her inability to oust an unsavory intruder. It occupied her mind as the maiden looked for meadowsweet and clover, and various other plants that thrived in the balmy heat of summer. Eventually, the season had crept its way north, and the frigid fingers of winter gave way to summer’s resplendent nature. The sun blanketed the hills, and greenery sprang forth – she would not miss this season’s harvest, like she had last year.

Furthermore, she was dedicated to putting her knowledge towards some sort of use this year.

Euphemia found plenty. She plucked it from the earth with her teeth and placed it all at the base of a tree. All the small blooms and curling vines, piled upon one another, looked like an offering made to some tree-god. Perhaps it was, even though Euphemia did not believe in such things as her mother did. Still, perhaps it was an offering, perhaps to herself – a declaration of intent, for which all of the natural world must see and be an unwilling witness.

---

Skill : 「 None */5 」

---

Like most things, the north was a thing Alaric had a love-hate relationship with. He didn’t like the cold, but summer made it bearable. Then there was that snarky little brat he ripped into, but there was also Lana. It didn’t really offer much in terms of home-y accommodations, but to be fair he wasn’t exactly looking for a home, anyway. Whatever, it was best to say he was “indifferent”, but his fickle opinion changed with the wind.

The Crane was prowling like a predator pursuing his next meal, eyes focused and posture trained. However, it was not the flesh of prey he wished to capture. The clear, recent scent of a woman was laced into the area, and Ric was looking for a good fucking time, so maybe this chick could help in one way or another.

Molten eyes narrowed, scanning the alpines with an almost annoyed expression. There was something familiar about the scent—did every northern chick smell the same? Eh, yeah he guessed that could make sense. As long as it wasn’t the stupid, bratty girl form before, he didn’t fucking care who was at the end of this trail.

Approaching the peak of a hill, Alaric’s lips curled into a devious grin, a low growl slipping into the cool air. In the distance was a woman—a girl, perhaps. Short—but he liked them like that, made ‘em easier to fuck with—and with body of gray gradients. The closer he got, the more he could pick out her youthful inexperience—she reminded him of Mauve, young and potentially impressionable, depending on her personal exposure.

Should a beautiful girl like you be out here, alone? his voice was level yet deep, his gaze shamelessly roaming across her features and committing it to his memory. Alaric offered a smile after his eyes decided to meet her own.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

Euphemia, for the first time in a long time, was deep in her work. It was a sort of god-state, mother had always told her, whenever you channeled your inner purpose – or higher calling – or whatever. Euphemia could not doubt that it felt good, whatever it was. When she plucked a simple plant and recited its purpose in her mind, she felt as if she had value. The hours passed more quickly than she expected. It was far nicer than the grips of self-loathing she had found herself in, ever since father’s disappearance and Kuhn’s departure.

For a moment, she marveled at how long ago that all seemed, but then she would push back a low-lying bough of a bush, and some other gem would beg to be harvested and catalogued.

The maiden had not been paying any attention when the man approached her, yet she snapped to attention when he entered her golden peripheral vision. He wasn’t not handsome, and he had already paid her a compliment. Euphemia felt entirely still within her skin, attempting to grasp what he had said – mostly because no one had ever called her beautiful before.

Eventually, she determined that it also felt good to be called beautiful, and she allowed it to happen. I have lived here my whole life, she answered simply, suggesting that she was not as alone as she appeared. Furthermore, she knew these lands, and she knew there was no place she was safer, unless she was within the borders of the Vale itself. The girl allowed her feathered tail to sway, signaling to him that this interaction was welcome.

After all, he seemed concerned about her welfare. Therefore, she wasn’t alone, rendering his question defunct.

---

Skill : 「 None */5 」

---

Molten eyes roamed across the woman’s body once again, his gaze lingering a tad too long on certain curves of her frame. The way her tail swayed softened his features, his expression appearing benevolent as his mind tickled with the idea of more devious things. Whoever this was, she was cute and it stirred up the primal part of him that was always present in his choice making. It was still unclear how the full interaction would go, whether she gave in and offered him what he wanted or if Alaric would need to claim it by force.

Your whole life? he asked while stepping closer, causally walking a circle around her to take in every visible inch. Born here? golden eyes flicked away from her, briefly scanning the nearby pine trees and open meadows before falling back to her. That mean you didn’t deal with any of the world shifting bullshit? did those born in Mythris even know about the absolutely fucked way the rest of them had gotten there?

Alaric finally stopped his pacing examination of her, finding a place to seat himself as his posture became relatively relaxed. With a sharp gaze and well-practiced smirk, he looked down at her to meet two bright, golden gems. Name’s Ric, it would be a good idea to give her a name to call out later on.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

It didn’t seem to put him off – the suggestion that she had family , or a pack, or at least friends nearby. The maiden regarded him curiously, noting how easy-going he seemed, which made her feel relaxed in turn. Most men in the north were so silent and brooding, but this one appeared gregarious in ways that allowed her to take a passive role in their interaction. She couldn’t stop the blush that rose of her cheeks, and was thankful that she had fur to obscure it.

He walked a tight circle around her, and if Euphemia had been more experienced in the ways of romance, she would have easy felt his gaze boring a hole into her. However, Euphemia was used to largely being ignored, unregarded, unseen. Unappreciated. For once, it seemed someone had seen her in her existential loneliness and – what's more – cared about what lay underneath.

It was something that each one of her sister had found, but eternally evaded the silver maiden.

Euphemia couldn’t help her genuine smile as he asked about her experience transcending into this plane. Well, as a matter of fact… no, she uttered quietly, realizing for the first time (in a long time) that she had awoken here not once, but twice! She had always considered it a marvel that, the first time, her home in the Frostfang Vale had remained quite the same while the rest of the living universe contorted and shifted.

Such a marvel that she… simply accepted it on day one, and lived every day since with that same exact reality.

Immediately, Euphemia was embarrassed by her introspection. My family woke up here together. The land I was born in… came with us, she explained, her voice held low, steering her breast ‘round upon her spindly legs in order to face him as he circled evermore. But after that, nothing was ever the same. Nothing. It was not necessarily a happy end to the story – but who’s to say that father’s disappearance and mother’s passing wouldn’t have happened anyway, if they hadn’t shifted realities that one random afternoon.

His name was Ric. A short, concise name for a man who seemed to get right to the point. Phia, the silver woman introduced, mirroring his posture and sitting to face him.

---

Skill : 「 None */5 」

---

He was listening as well as he could, but Alaric’s focus was splintered as he took notice of the plants she was gathering up. Her voice would string through his ears and his mind would bounce between the story she shared with him and the nagging curiosity from the depths of himself. An herbalist, it seemed. The Crane lightly clenched his jaw, but not enough to be obvious to the other. Healers, herbalists, medics, whatever the fuck they wanted to call themselves—Alaric had a spotty relationship with them in the past. Keres was one, Mauve, Barbosa, Lizbeth… The women he once pined for, the ones that were like fucking drugs to him.

Mmmm, was the reply Ric gave as he finally digested what she’d said. An entire family was taken from another place and thrown here and some-fucking-how their whole ass home came with them. The fuck? He didn’t get anything like that. Ric had jack shit with him as he washed up on the shores of Mythris. At least ya had family and the place ya lived. The rest of us weren’t so lucky, at least, he assumed he was part of the majority.

Alaric’s shoulders rolled in a nonchalant shrug, no point in being pissy about something that happened so long ago. Ya also can’t be sure that your old world would’a been any better, of course he had no clue what kind of tragedies she faced, but she also couldn’t be sure the other world would have been any more forgiving. Nothing was the same, she’d said, but there was no guaranteeing it would have stayed the same elsewhere.

Phia… the man’s lips curled in a grin, eyes bright with mischief as he felt the way her name dabbed on his tongue. Alaric’s head angled downward to watch her, still caught on the whole herb thing. His blood pulsed hotly, as if merely assuming she held a profession similar to his last obsessions’ was enough to rile him. Been meaning to ask, you some kinda medic? Noticed all the herbs you were gatherin’ up, a single brow rose with his question.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

Euphemia grimaced at the truth he uttered so openly – that she was luckier than most. Her privilege was a tough-to-swallow reality, because at the same time Euphemia could not deny how she suffered in spite of it. She nodded, as if this was somehow not a good thing, as if it made her existence less legitimate because her family and inborn status gave her a leg up. In fact, her position within her home was so solid that she did not need to specialize in anything, seeing as her every true need was taken care of by dutiful others.

Me, a medic? Euphemia tittered nervously, unable to hide the youthful buoyancy in her voice, as if it was simply impossible that she could ever be a medic. Maybe she spent all of her free time getting to know her plant allies, but that did not directly relate to medical training, as much as Euphemia wished it would. I wish I was that employable, she lamented, a little more solemnly.

Perhaps Euphemia might have been forced into the gaping, vacuous hole left by the death of her herbalist mother who was veritably brimming with on-the-job experience – had it not been for Solvi, the golden-haired healer that had taken Dawnbreak (and all its potential patients) by storm. But now Solvi was gone, and Euphemia felt bad to admit that she was simply waiting around, ready for someone to get hurt.

No, I simply have an affinity for plants, she admitted with the finality of her smile. Yet, she continued, looking towards the bouquet she had gathered. They’re so beautiful, and so unique. Makes them fun to study. the maiden turned her sunset gaze then upon Ric, wondering why he wished to know. Perhaps he needed someone with healing expertise, or was a healer seeking like-minded conversation?

Whatever it was that he wanted, she could be it for him.

Euphemia continued talking, quietly inanely, over the stammering of her heart at the thought. Perhaps next I'll learn about the stars, for those same reasons... She allowed her gaze to fall to the earth between them, and heaved an internal sigh. Upon her breath, his scent tingled and twirled within her ribcage. She wished to keep their conversation flowing. Are you? Er sorry, I mean, a medic? Are you a medic?

---

Skill : 「 None */5 」

---

Alaric’s brows lifted in surprise, ears angled backward like an annoyed cat for a moment. It seemed his question had struck some type of chord in the younger woman. Her reaction seemed aligned with a child that had been caught playing with adult things she had no right to even touch. It was amusing, but it also fizzled some of that building fire that was always relentlessly lit within his belly.

She yearned to be “employable”, to be wanted—to be needed, it seemed. Alaric stepped closer, circling once, as if this wasn’t some stranger that required personal space. He allowed his shoulder to brush against hers, neck craning until his head lay level with her own. Affinity for plants, hm? a teasing remark, quiet and intimate as there was no need to speak so loudly with their proximity. Golden eyes stared at the greenery around them. He hadn’t a single fucking clue what any of them were or what they did—if they even did anything at all. How the hell did one have “an affinity for plants”? It sounded made up, if you asked him.

Beautiful, unique, fun to study…? She’d lost him entirely. Blankly, almost questioningly, Alaric looked from her, to the plants, back to her, and the plants more. I see… plants, Were they truly that unique from one another? Squinting, the Crane glared at the foliage. Yep. Those were plants alright, green and… leafy? Some stem-y and others prickly. Maybe he had an affinity for them, too.

Alaric’s face curved with a deepened grin as he felt Phia’s eyes on him as intensely he was staring at the plants a moment before. A sideways glance was given, his tongue gliding along his teeth and lips as he accentuated his roguish smirk. Citrine eyes gleamed with a flash of recognition—or maybe even interest—as he took note of how hard she was trying to keep pace. Her youthful inexperience with a man of his status was evident, but it only stirred up the ideas of fun he could have.

Phia mentioned stars, comparing them to the plants. Yeah, it made sense. He couldn’t tell these apart from one another, either. But he didn’t care to throw that comment into the mix of things. It was her final question that caused a chuckle to roll from the man’s chest. A single brow rose, his expression entirely amused. Me? he laughed once again, as if it were an unexpectedly good joke. A medic? who knew this girl would have such a sense of humor.

Nah, sweetheart. I think I’m a medic’s worst nightmare. Can’t count the amount’a times I’ve needed patching up, it had been a lot, and many he nearly died, too. But it was best not to scare her off. Alaric pondered how many times he had been helped against his will, how many times he wished it had all ended. Internally, he winced, but maintained his outward composure.

Careful, Phia. If your plant-affinity-thing leads ya to healing, you might end up mending a beast that will bite the hand that feeds it. You seem like the type to be too merciful and trusting, he should know, he had bitten his fair share.

After a beat, Alaric’s less serious nature returned, his charming grin still dangerously warm and taunting. But hey, a whisper as he allowed his muzzle to hover beside the woman’s ear. If you ever wanna practice, I don’t mind bein’ your first lost cause, the tone was teasing, but the truth lay in plain sight. He was no more than a beast with bad habits and an anger issue.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

His shoulder alighted with her, an entirely intentional action, and Euphemia felt the breath get caught in her chest.

So, this was what it was like – when a man had interested in you. When he went out of his way to know more about you; when he made excuses to touch, just to feel the spark of it. It was then that her pure delight was somewhat stifled at the realization that this was perhaps the first time in her life an individual had touched her that way. Beyond her family, this was the first time anyone had paid her any mind.

It felt like fire.

He was talking about the plants, and Euphemia felt a sense of gratefulness bloom within her chest for him. With any other subject, the maiden would be lost! But his confusion about the herbs she gathered made her giggle nervously, struggling to know what to say, even though this was her most prized topic. Everything sounded so stupid when she spoke it first in her mind. Well, if you had the flux, you’d be happy to have that plant in particular, was what she said, and then Euphemia gazed (perhaps for the last time) at the white sprigs of yarrow at the base of the tree.

Then, looking at him, she promptly forgot about them.

Suddenly, she found her words. I can’t hunt herds that well. Every deer looks the same to me, the maiden suggested softly, sharing her grand realization with him. She attempted to take in the full sight of him, remarking internally about his coat and how they both sported pelts of grey-phase. But someone with a hunter’s trained eye can easily… espy the perfect prey. His was darker, and hers was lighter. She might not be able to tell a stag from a doe, but she could see that.

With enough experience, I assume you can almost read their minds. Predict where they’re going to go... At least, that’s what she noticed when she lay witness to the grand nature of a hunt. When a large animal was to die, the process of it required strategy and experience. She greatly admired those who could, but that’s not me. I just do plants.

Euphemia couldn’t help the way her ears fell.

But then he called her merciful and trusting, and all was right in the world again.

It was easy to tell that this was a man of experience – a man of class, who knew his way around the world. He was unpretentious with it too, she could tell just from the way he spoke about it. Euphemia could sense there was no front about it either, seeing as that was the exact opposite of how she was. What would he stand to gain by lying? It wasn’t like innocent, inexperienced girls ever went for the bad boys anyways. Nope, not she.

Her historical “type” was that of Vidarr – hulking, stoic, unavailable, and married twice. Ric was out of left field.

You’ve needed mending? the silver sylph asked, eyes glittering in endearing interest. He had many scars, so perhaps that should have been obvious. What happened?

---

Skill : 「 None */5 」

---

It was dangerous—in the way Alaric liked—the situation they’d found themselves in. A young, inexperienced woman and a man that used charming, teasing tones to thinly veil the true, horrendous nature that was tangled so deep in his soul.

His actions had been mindless. The shoulder brushing stirred up the usual, sexual draw he felt to others when in close proximity on a good day. Though, his veins were not burning with passion the way it may have been for the carefree youth. Alaric grinned, self satisfied with how close he’d been able to get, eager to display more subliminal cues that would gradually gravitate Phia towards him. There was no attempt made to recreate the empty space between them, no words of denial or discomfort—she’d been ready and willing to accept his advances, it seemed.

As the girl spoke of a plant he’d need for the flux, Ric’s mind was too busy buzzing with other scenarios and ideas. Herbs did not garner much interest, not the way other topics did. However, as she began to speak of hunting, there was an evident expression of confusion, if only for the briefest of moments. Phia decided to go off on some tangent about hunting and how it was similar to plants; or at least that’s what he thought she was talking about?

It was almost amusing, when he thought about it. The way she’d spoken of hunters and deer, and how she “just did plants”, but as she went on to describe the way trained eyes could spot the best prey—she was oblivious to how close she was to describing the way he had been watching her. Nothing more than a predator spotting a lone doe, reading her signals and tells the way a hunter would decipher a sick or injured meal.

Not bad, Ric finally said in response to it all. Insticnt and natural talent can only take you so far, it takes experience and effort to read things like deer. But if ya put enough time behind it, you’ll be able to read more than the minds of prey—you can read anyone you cross paths with, he was lucky she hadn’t honed such boringly-useful skills, where would the fun in that be?

Alaric felt his breathing shift slightly as she’d driven the conversation towards him and his history with recovery. What happened?? Well, fuck. Citrus colored eyes focused somewhere beyond Phia’s gaze, as if searching for the answer elsewhere. Fights, accidents, dumb luck, poor choices. Pick one. The man shrugged, flashes of violence entering his mind. Yeah, he’d seen a lot of bullshit in his life… Lives(?)

His tone was nonchalant and unbothered, even as it was turbulent beneath the surface. Guess you could say I’ve dealt with some challenges, and failed about half of ‘em, but he’d totally aced the other half. Kind of. Still not dead, though. Guess I’m good at surviving. Even when he wanted to die, he’d wake up the next day, miserable.

The burning in his chest caused by the memories made his mood shift. He was growing impatient, the lustful appetite for affection or violence bubbling up as if so often did. Alaric licked his lips, his face wearing a grin and his eyes mischievous as he leaned into her personal space once more.

Watch yourself, Phia. the warning was breathed into her ear gently. Careful what you ask to know. You might get answers you don’t wanna hear, an’ I’d hate to shatter that pretty, little way you look at the world, Actually, he would love to shatter it, but only after he had his fun with her.

If she’d known all the tales, her view of him would darken in a moment’s notice.