The tournament had left him only a little worse for wear. Although his fur was disheveled and he had suffered a few minor scrapes and bruises, Alder had come out pretty well for himself, all things considered. He would have enjoyed taking the victory - in fact, he had set out very specifically to do so - but Tiberii's way of processing grief had turned her into an unstoppable landslide, and, well, sometimes things didn't turn out the way you wanted them to.

Surprisingly, Alder felt... okay with it. He expected to be much more distraught, especially given Solvi's presence and the favor she had bestowed upon him for good luck, but something in his gut told him that Tiberii needed it more.

In the end he accepted the loss and moved on.

(After all, he'd won Northfall's first tournament, he thought with some smugness. Couldn't be too greedy.)

With only a small limp, he shuffled off in the direction of Solvi's scent, ready to get the awkward conversation of his failure out of the way. The trail lead him down, down the winding mountains of Northfall's claim, and his ears pricked forward with heightened curiosity as he detected another scent mingling with her own - it was surprisingly pleasant, almost sweet, but he couldn't quite place it. A wolf? No - not a wolf - but not really a plant, either -

Perplexed, he followed the Solvi-sweet-scent.

The sweet-scent had mingled with Solvi's in such a way that they now seemed to become one, and Alder wondered if perhaps she had discovered it and was carrying the source with her. Whatever it was, it smelled absolutely heavenly; he felt himself growing almost intoxicated by the smell as he drifted forward without any thought behind it.

Why was he following her again? What had he wanted to talk about?

Something related to... the tournament...

The heady scent seemed to culminate as he passed beneath two overarching trees, and suddenly the world exploded in a vision of color and birdsong as everything became bathed in golden light.

The scent he'd been following now seemed to disperse on a broad scale, tinging the air all around him with its honey-sweet notes. Solvi's trail, however, remained clear before him, and as he mindlessly followed it - his head felt as if stuffed full of feathers and cotton - he could just make out her slender form through the dreamscape ahead. She appeared perfectly at home here, traipsing across the meadow on light paws with a merry step, but whatever this place was doing to him Alder seemingly didn't care enough to wonder where here was anymore.

Solvi? he called, his own voice sounding far away. Alder moved forward.

Distantly, he wondered if he was dead - had Tiberii hit him that hard? - and if this was paradise.

For a moment he thought she'd sneezed, but the upward lilt of her greeting implied a question and so he correctly surmised she was speaking in her family's native tongue. Alder felt a little sheepish - after all, his own Russian probably sounded like nonsense to her, too.

I followed your scent, he said frankly, I wanted to talk about how I bombed the Northfall tournament, but then everything became -

His head rotated slowly, owlishly as he surveyed their surroundings, pastoral and serene with birdsong chattering musically against the backdrop of their conversation. Distantly he half-expected some eldritch horror to pop up out of the earth and reveal this to be a cruel joke, but so far everything... seemed... fine.

Weird.

Oh, fuck. Why did he say that? Why did he pick that word? She just said this was her home, the sentimental land of her birth and upbringing, the one place to treat with respect you absolute clod -

I didn't mean that.

Alder looked absolutely panicked.

I meant weird like, fascinating. Very nice. Beautiful, even, he sputtered, struggling to take back control of Solvi's perception of him. I really like it!

With the exchange successfully recovered (in his mind), he cleared his throat.

Would you like to show me around?