The Small Town of Bhaltor

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Sun Sep 30, 2018 11:11 pm

“He was very personable. And… excited, to enlighten me about his dragons.” She stated, beginning to answer his questions as she ventured into the stable corridor.

“In any case, I mean that Triton isn’t fond of him,” she stated simply. Outstretching an arm, she made sure to rub each curious steed’s muzzle as she walked past. Her favorite thing about stable horses was how inquisitive they were, and how they seemed to pop out of nowhere to greet you. “I don’t think he realizes my affiliation with the cause, but perhaps he has an inkling of his.”

Moonlight shone through the slats in the wood, glimmering brilliantly off the red of a large stallion. Stopping before his stall, she reached her hands out to greet him; taking his giant head into her arms. She rested her forehead to his, searching his eyes with her own as she pondered Emile’s last statement.

“... I do not know. He said nothing about his own family. He didn’t really say much of anything, really, only insinuations… I mentioned disliking how House Whittaker looks down on me for being unlike them, and his words reached me. I believe the feeling is mutual.”

Retracting from the steed, she picked up the halter from his door. She then tied it to him and led him out. Next was Emile’s.

She gazed around at the horses filling the stable, trying to decide which suited the lupin the most. Black seemed the obvious choice, but white could add a lovely contrast. She assumed that he would want something with some power behind it; something strong and fast. She’d seen a beautifully muscled bay near the front.

With one last glance around, she made her decision. Taking out both horses, she pulled them towards Emile. She held out the rope to his new steed to him, smiling as she quietly waited for his approval.

------------

“Do you think she’d tell us if we were overstepping our bounds? Surely she would, right? After all, that’s how we taught her.”

Pulling out from the embrace, the lycan found her seat upon the bed. She rested her hand against her wound. Chuckling, she found herself smirking up at her wedded.

“This is your fault. You just couldn’t help yourself at training, and now I’m lame. I know I said not to go easy on me, but…” she teased, simply unable to help herself from poking the bear.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Mon Oct 01, 2018 9:19 pm

"Yes. But so isn't everyone when they're telling a convincing lie? I'm not saying he wasn't telling the truth but, it would do us more good to be skeptical of everything that came out of his mouth until we have proof to make us believe otherwise. Hanging on his every word can lead to as much trouble as it can good." Emile replied from within the tack room.

"Ah, I see. That makes more sense than what I had thought." He responded, emerging with one set of tack. He set the saddle on a nearby stall door, laying the bridle across it. He hoped the horse inside wouldn't fiddle with it too much, or knock anything over.

"Which, if it's true that he has an inkling of Triton and his House being part of the cause, it would make one wonder why House Whittaker hasn't faced any scrutiny from the Crown. Or perhaps he has the inkling, yet no proof to prove so." He gave a small shrug, then went back into the room where they kept all the tack, grabbing the second set. As with before, he exited the room and set it on another stall door, hoping the that horse would also leave it alone. At the same time that he'd about finished collecting all the tack, Spoon seemed to have already picked out their two horses. Reaching for the rope to his, he reached forward with his other hand to give the horse's forehead a nice rub. She really did have an eye for horses that not only looked pleasing and appealing to the eye, but strong, well-built horses.

"Good eye. These are some good horses." He complimented, leading his over to the second set of tack. He tied the rope to a ring outside the stall door, grabbing the pad and setting it on the horse's back. He made sure it was in the proper place before grabbing the saddle, laying it down on the horse's back.

"I'm genuinely curious if things are not as they seem within the royal family. But who knows. It's impossible to know what goes on behind closed doors." He commented on what she had said last. He wanted to believe that Ashe wasn't as he had seemed from all the rumors, but he had to remain the skeptic-- until there was concrete proof that the Prince wasn't like the rest of his family; or at least his mother, anyway-- he wouldn't believe for a second that the Heir to the Crown was anything less than bad news. As he thought, he set the work tightening his horse's girth, and when he deemed it tight enough, he went for the bridle. He removed the halter, slipping the bridle on. He made sure it fit his steed just right before taking the reins. It had been ages since he'd had to tack up a horse-- he was surprised he even remembered how. He was sure he had everything right; it looked correct, anyhow. He then looked to Spoon, to see if she was ready.

++++++++++

"I'd hope she would." David replied, though the uncertainty in his voice was there. He watched her she pulled away, his fingers lingering on her until she was completely out his grasp before his hands returned to his side. A small, soft smile came to his lips at her words; a small shake of his head.

"Apologies, my love. You know the last thing I'd ever want to do was hurt you. On my life, it was an accident." He apologized.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Tue Oct 02, 2018 3:22 pm

Spoon couldn’t help but giggling as she listened, finding his list of responses to be a tad ironic. It took her a moment longer to finish tacking up her horse, but she was ready to mount right around the time that Emile had found his place in the saddle.

Heaving her way up, she lightly tugged the reins, urging her steed to step in her companion’s direction so that she may have an easier time talking with him.

“It’s a bit funny. You were so suspicious of what he told me purposefully, and yet you still look so deeply into his words of ambiguity” she commented, half in jest, but also a bit curious as to what he’d have to say for himself in response.

A gentle squeeze urged her mount forward, beginning to head back towards the camp.

“Besides, I never sound excited when I lie. I believe that the best lies still incriminate you, just for different reasons.” She chuckled, looking back at him over her shoulder before motioning for him to follow. “To me at least, lying is weighing what you want to get away with against what punishment you’re willing to receive. The best way to keep one’s suspicions off of you, is to already seem suspicious of something else.”

She truly wasn’t aware of just how sinister she sounded. She got it from her mother.

-------------

Grinning, Shoe found an idea. She pulled her knees as far in to her chest as she could manage, and then sprung her feet forward; guiding herself into a bunny-kick against David’s stomach.

Grunting, she regretted her action immediately after. Clutching her size, she couldn’t help but laugh. Not only at herself, but at both of them.

“You know I forgive you, but I’ll never stop bringing it up.” she smiled, laying flat on the bed with a small ‘oof’ as she kept her hand over her wound. “I won’t lie, though, I hate being this useless. If I cannot even properly kick, then what good am I? No good a fighter, and certainly no good a lover.”

She smirked and then sighed, draping her other arm over her eyes.

“It was so long ago now, you know? When we first met? I was even more useless then, but you drug me along anyway. Who am I kidding, I followed you. I wasn’t sure you were safe then, but I took my chances. Now, at least, I can be injured and still feel secure. That is more than nice.”
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Tue Oct 02, 2018 4:43 pm

"Well. It's a thought we've not had before, is it not? Thus far, everyone in the royal family was just bad, 'evil', as far as we were concerned. It was a thought that, foolishly, we never challenged, until we were presented that very thought by someone who might be living it. What kind of thinkers are we, if we don't question what we think is concrete? I mean, for all we know, the way the Prince was acting could have just been a front in the presence of potential traitors. A way to lure them into a false sense of security. But, if all he told you is true, and what you think turns out to be the truth, then I think the most important thing to gleam from this encounter is to remember that there are others out there who are neither for or against the Crown; they merely do what is necessary to survive with what they've been given in this life. However, in this particular case, it would do us more good to take Ashe's words with a grain of salt; we've more to gain by erring on the side of caution than trusting blindly, even though the information, if it is all truth, would prove extremely valuable." Emile tried to explain himself.

It was true, what he was saying was slightly conflicting-- it was difficult for him to explain his reasoning in a way that made complete and total sense. On one hand, he was curious to see if the heir to the Crown wasn't like the rest of his family, but on the other hand... one good encounter with the Prince didn't equate to immediate trust in him or his words. Sure, the information he had given was valuable, but only if it was true. If it wasn't... it could get someone hurt, or killed. Maybe it was true that Veraxes was the most docile of the lot, but maybe that was the reason he only had the one dragon with him and not all five. After all, every other story they'd ever heard about dragons said otherwise about their nature; often portrayed as vicious beasts that had little care for other life, with no qualms about spewing fire whenever they pleased. Aside from that, it would benefit the Crown for the Prince to say that dragons are docile; others would be more likely to attempt an attack on the towers if they thought the dragons were more docile than they actually were. It would be an easy way to weed out traitors and 'other scum'. Or, maybe that was the truth about the dragons being docile creatures, maybe it was fiction... in either case they couldn't base their opinion on one chance encounter, or from the words that came from its handler.

"Actually, this way. We're going to the Whittaker's tonight." He gestured her in his direction, turning his steed toward the road that would lead to the Whittaker's keep. He waited for her, listening to what she had to say.

"Hm. I can agree to that, I suppose. It's not a bad way to look at lying and dodging suspicions, and it can be very effective." He responded after a moment of thought. It was a bit of a sinister way to think about it, but he wasn't much bothered by that-- sometimes, you just had to do what you had to do to get things done. Of course, he didn't think that way about all things, but with something like this, he didn't really see the harm in having a mentality like that. He nudged his horse forward, and almost as if on queue, there was a muffled screech in the distance. He looked up, and on the horizon he could see the glimmer of brown and gold scales and silver armor in the pale moonlight. The dragon soared fast, within a minute flying low overhead; its wing-beats drumming, sending dust scattering. He covered his face with an arm, taking up his reins in the other as his horse jumped forward, a bit frightened by the large creature. He pulled back on the reins as Veraxes touched down on the ground just outside the town, hind legs first. The large creature had something clutched in his jaws-- they found out what it was a moment later when the dragon dropped a dead doe in the grass. Using a giant paw to hold the front end down, he grabbed the rear half of the animal in his jaws and with a mighty pull ripped it clean in half, swallowing it whole before going in for the other half. Scooping it up, in his mouth, he swallowed that half, too. The giant reptilian animal then set itself down in the grass, seemingly finding its spot for the rest of the night like a vigilant watchdog.

Emile took a breath after watching the creature, before turning to Spoon, "You ready?"

++++++++++

Unsuspecting at first, David took a step back with an 'oof' of his own, putting a hand over his stomach with a small grin and a shake of his head.

"Careful now, dear. We can't both be lame." He laughed a little, making his way onto the bed beside her.

"Aye, maybe, but time will go by, and then you'll be good as new and ready to kick my ass." He smirked a little bit.

"Whether I drug you along or you followed, I'm glad that we're here. Or at least, that I have you and Spoon. I wouldn't have it any other way." He laid a gentle hand atop the one she had on her wound, letting out a small sigh. He was glad for Emile, too, and even though the others could be idiots sometimes... they were all good people, and he wouldn't ask for a different crew. Although sometimes he wished they were a little more productive, they had their ups and downs.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Tue Oct 02, 2018 6:42 pm

“What? Nooo!”

Spoon’s protest was immediate and immature in nature. She pouted, pulling her red steed around from a halt -- she noted how well he moved on a dime, as well as how responsive he was to instructions; it was clear that this was a well trained horse indeed. With much reluctance, she trotted over to her companion’s side.

“Why must I? Why tonight?” she began to whine, clearly unhappy with the situation. “I never get to see you like this! The one night that you finally change form, I can’t stay at home with you?”

Sighing, she bowed her head in yield. It was at that point that the her horse’s head and ears shot towards the sky, catching her off-guard. Before she could react, she felt her entire being drop into her gut with one enormous waft of air. ”Veraxes!” she hushedly exclaimed. His screech lifted her into the air, and it was as if all the world had melted away. She watched as the beast consumed his meal, her hands clutching the reins to her chest. Her horse, however, was completely unphased.

She hadn’t realized that she’d been completely slack-jawed until the coughing started. The dust that hadn’t collected in her lungs had settled on her tongue, soaking up any moisture in her mouth and leaving her smacking her lips. What she wouldn’t give to walk right up to the beast right now and place her hand upon his mighty scales once more. Alas, she knew it wasn’t the time. Without the Prince there to supervise, who could tell that Veraxes would allow her the touch? It was just as Emile had said, perhaps it was for the best that they continue to assume the dragons as savage.

Looking back to him, Spoon gave a defeated nod, smiling afterwards.

“Yes, yes. I’m ready. But I’m not done complaining.”

With a small laugh and a squeeze of her thighs, she set off in the direction of House Whittaker’s Keep.

-------------------

“As am I,” Shoe began, love in her eyes, “as am I.”

Rolling onto her stomach, she draped her arms and legs atop of David’s form; effectively covering him like a blanket.

One might see it as cute or cuddly, but Shoe would firmly state it to be an act of claim for her kind. No one could really argue it untrue, as no one knew her pack’s customs but her own. It wasn’t. She just liked to make up alternative reasons for her affection. It kept her lover on his toes. Plus, it was a wonderful excuse to sit on his lap during meetings.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Tue Oct 02, 2018 7:57 pm

"Whether or not they're friendly or savage creatures, they're certainly breathtaking." Emile commented, knowing how infatuated she was with the dragon. He certainly couldn't blame her-- it was holding his attention too. He nudged his horse forward just a moment after she urged hers forth. He knew she would likely protest if he came to get her like this, but what was he to do? What sense would it make for a mere dog to retrieve its human? For the cause, it would only make the most sense to find out what the Whittakers knew, something only she could do. But... what of what she wanted? Did that not matter too? He knew that it did; her parents loved her more than anything. Still... it felt like they weren't really giving her a choice, even though she more than deserved one.

"Well, I would never make you go anywhere you don't want to, but it was at the request of your parents for me to bring you there." He replied, puting it much kinder than her parents had really made it. It really hadn't been so much of a request that had come from Shoe's mouth as it had been an order, however he was willing to defy that order if it would bring Spoon more joy to go home. Even if that brought consequences along with it. He just wanted her to be happy.

++++++++++

A small smile tugged at David's lips, followed by a quiet chuckle. He always found his wife's display of affection as amusing as it was cute. Sure, he knew what she was doing, but obviously he didn't mind. It was quirky, perhaps, but that was just how she was, and he wouldn't change a thing about her. He wormed his arm underneath her, placing his hand against the small of her back beginning to affectionately rub vertically along her back. With a contented sigh, he lie there.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Tue Oct 02, 2018 11:05 pm

“No, no. I know it’s for the best.”

Spoon shrugged her shoulders, resigned to her fate as it was.

“It’s really not that bad. Triton is my beloved, after all. Spending some time with him won’t be bad. It’s more just… his family environment.” she grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable tingle shoot down her spine at the thought of dealing with them. She’d wished that Triton would come to visit her more often, but she knew he had other duties to attend. Besides, the bottom of an empty lakebed wasn’t the most ‘appealing’ to him anyways.

“And I mean, I can see why being there would be important for us. Especially since he’ll be back there again tomorrow. Moreover, the cause is more important. I believe in it, and if believing in it means taking a little sacrifice every now and again… so be it. My parents, you, and many of the other members -- I know you’d be willing to lay your life down for this. What kind of person would I be if I wasn’t willing to give up an evening with a friend?”

Laughing, she reached over as far as she could to gently punch her companion in the shoulder. A grin pulled at her lips. “Just promise me you’ll be human with me for an afternoon sometime. You’re fluffy and soft, which is nice, but… thumbs would help with a game of chess, if you would be my opponent.”

Smiling, she continued on towards the keep. Their banter was light and enjoyable as usual, it was one of the many things she enjoyed about Emile. He was easy to talk to, and he always cared about what she had to say, no matter how insignificant it may be. Time passed quickly through their words. Dirt paths turned to stone roads, the dilapidated buildings lining their path turned to upscale manors, and soon enough they found themselves at the towering gates that guarded House Whittaker.

Spoon heaved a breath, dismounting from her steed. She greeted the guards, leading her horse through the gates. It was hard to ignore their nearly lifeless stares; she could never get a read on any of them. She couldn’t imagine a life like that, standing in one place every day, switching out only to sleep or eat really. It wasn’t as if the Whittakers even needed this level of protection. They went quite overboard for a lower-ranking house in the crown.

Stepping into the courtyard, she almost felt her apprehension leave her. It was the one good thing about this place; the flowers. A marbled fountain lay amidst a blanket of the most vibrantly beautiful flowers, some so rare she may never see them elsewhere. Even in the dull light of the moon she found them stunning.

Passing the courtyard, and more guards, she made way to the stable. She knew this was where she would need to part ways with Emile, and she wasn’t the happiest about it. After all, what came next was… nobles. She sighed, turning to him with a defeated frown.

“I suppose this is it. I’ll be back home tomorrow, shortly after the Prince leaves. Do me a favor; whatever dress they’ve stuffed me in, however they choose to doll me up… just ignore it, would you?”
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Wed Oct 03, 2018 2:00 pm

Listening to her, Emile had scarcely realized that he just generally viewed the Whittaker's as a bad place. A place he didn't want to be; and he'd seem to have forgotten that Triton was her lover under that veil of thought. He wasn't sure if all noble houses were built like the Whittaker's-- he was sure they weren't as he had seen the front gates of others and they weren't nearly as drab, as fortified, or as menacing and unwelcoming. He couldn't blame her for disliking the place, or even disliking the Lord and Lady of the House. The most interaction he'd had with them had been limited; they weren't too fond of him; or at least Lady Gwyn wasn't. For, his most significant interaction with her had been, 'Dogs have no place in the house, and belong in the kennels'.

"I suppose. Just don't let that thought consume you and dictate everything you do. The cause is important, yes, but it shouldn't always be dominant over your own desires." He replied, a smile and a light laugh coming to him as she reached over to give his shoulder a playful punch.

"I promise." It was a little while before the gates of the Whittaker's castle came into view. The unkempt dirt roads had turned to cobblestone long ago, and as they dismounted to walk through the gate he caught the faces and stares of the guards. Looking at the stone buildings and towers around him, he honestly couldn't fathom being a noble, or what was so great about it. The entire place seemed cold, harsh, confined; a lot like a prison. Maybe that was just his inner wolf talking, though. The only life about the place were the colourful flowers that decorated the center of the courtyard surrounding the fountain. The flora that lined the walls leading up to all the doors were different variations of semi-vibrant colours too. Their flags and banners waving in the wind added an extra bit of saturation, displaying their house sigil of the snake, and their colours-- green and white. Other than that, everything else seemed monotone and flat; grey.

He followed her through the courtyard, past even more guards. What were they all even for? When was the last time anyone had even heard of the Whittaker's castle being attacked? Although, maybe that was the point. They were quite far from any major city, after all; at least eight hundred miles. There was no use calling for back-up from the Crown all the way out here, unless some already happened to be in the area-- by the time any reinforcements from the royal family would arrive this far out, you'd already have lost the battle; you'd likely already be dead. It was a nice thing for the resistance, but for anyone else who actually needed the help, well... not so much. It lead to a lot of vigilante justice around these parts, or at least, people who think they're doing the right thing. It isn't always the case though. After all... most people would enact their own 'vigilante justice' unto Emile if they found out what he really was, and if they got the chance.

"I'll do my best. No promises, though." He replied with a small grin after they'd reached the stables. His heart did sink a little, though. It was time for his departure. He'd have to leave her here, alone, with them, in this horrible place. He hated leaving her side as it was, but it seemed especially so here.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Wed Oct 03, 2018 4:20 pm

Rolling her eyes at his response, she quickly pulled the feral into a tight hug. She took in a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the task that lie before her. Not only must she deal with Triton’s family, but she must do it… drunk.

Sure, the ride had helped take a bit of the edge off, but competing with Ashe had been a wretched idea for this night in particular. Exhaling, she tore herself away from the comfort of Emile’s embrace. Waving goodbye to her companion, she stabled her horse and made her way towards the entrance of the house.

Finding herself on the steps to the estate, she couldn’t help but awe at its stature. With such high walls, it only made sense that the house itself would be equally as elevated; why have such beautiful architecture if you don’t intend to show it off? Reaching the top, she waved to the guards. A waft of exhaustion swept over her, knowing all too well of the interaction that was yet to come.

She watched as the guards pushed open the doors. They opened slowly, only seeming to emphasize their impossible height. She couldn’t imagine how much they must weigh. Once they were fully opened, she bowed politely to the guards before entering.

As expected, it was empty aside from the guards. Why would there be a welcoming party when they didn’t know they’d have a guest? She traipsed through the halls quietly, searching for someone to guide her to where she needed to be. She’d been here many times before, but she never seemed to learn how to navigate the maze inside. Aside from that, she only ever seemed to make mistakes in the presence of the noble lords; she preferred to ask for direction over being scolded for walking ‘incorrectly.’

Finally, she found her way to the great hall. Peering through the doors she could see that dinner was being held -- of course! It was late, after all. And she’d come completely unannounced. Her anxiety nearly toppled her. Unsure what to do, she stood in linger.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Wed Oct 03, 2018 5:02 pm

Emile hugged her tight, wishing her the best for the rest of her night. Sure, this endeavor wasn't dangerous-- or at least, he didn't think it was-- but it sure was exhausting and draining from a mental standpoint. He didn't envy her one bit. She pulled away, leaving him with a wave, which he returned before turning himself and his horse back around to head back out of the courtyard to the gate. The guards obliged his departure with an opened gate, which he lead his horse through. Once on the other side, he heard the heavy doors close behind him as he mounted his steed, urging it back down the road the way they'd come. He'd hoped the roads would be as clear as they had been on the way here-- at least the Prince had been correct about that thus far.

A passing maid spotted the young woman lingering outside of the hall. Recognizing the betrothed lover of Triton, she approached.

"Oh, Miss Spoon! It is nice to see you! I will let the Lord and Lady know you are here." She said happily, entering the dining hall and approaching Lord Erik and Lady Gwyn. She curtsied respectfully to them, uttering a few words before nodding her head a little bit. They dismissed her, and she turned, heading back to the door.

"They wish that you would join them for dinner, if it would suit your fancy." She told Spoon, gesturing inside with a hand. It seemed the noble heir couldn't contain himself to the seat of his chair, for he arrived at the doorway only a few moments later.

"Ah, Spoon, my beloved! A surprise visit tonight, but your face is always a welcome sight around here." He said with a small bow to her, taking her hand in his with a firm kiss to its back.

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