Making Amends (Nemo)

[Brisinger987]

Veraxitoc had sent that letter expecting no reply, or some sort of witty comment. But she wanted to talk. Ornusjalil wanted to talk. To stop fighting. It had shocked him to learn about that. He didn't even care about the Raven and the Sparrow. He snacked on them. They would always be rivals. That was definite. They would always argue and banter. The inevitability of time. But at least the actual fighting would stop.

La'marri was definitely neutral ground. He could agree to neutral ground. He had been forced to look after Methusela though. And the bugger was teething. So Veraaxitoc had dealt with it the dragon way. Methusela now had a whole skeleton to teeth on. It would be good for him too. Lots of health benefits from chewing bones instead of wood.

"Uncle Ver, why do mummy and daddy not look like me? Why do you look like me?" Methusela was of course actively asking about being a Nightspinner.

"Well, Methusela, we don't know your real mummy and daddy, see, cause our species, isn't around anymore. All gone. We're the only two Nightspinners. Your mummy and daddy took care of you. Made sure you were ok." Veraxitoc saw no use in lying to the boy.

They were sat fairly obviously, in a big clearing.

[Nemo]

Once upon a time, Ornusjalil would have arrived with a storm on the wing - sturm-und-drang were her style! She had a flair for the dramatic, and the old dragoness had always been the sort who felt she had something to prove with these things, she realized now. With age... had come insight, if she took the time to listen. And so, it was with a little grin that she decided to go to the site in elven form. She let the road slow to meet her feet, and knew that it was probably a damn fool idea. She was hurt still, and pretty badly. Sure Veraxitoc caught more harm than her... but who was to say what the future held in store!

So, with hope in her heart and a lead ball in her gut, she strode calmly and purposefully through the ancient forest, until she came upon the agreed upon clearing, drawing back her hood and walking with a calm and considered step. Her middle was bound up and hurt, yes... but she had hidden the scent of her injury with magic, and her own self control was such that pretending not to be injured was simple business.

The ancient dragoness, appearing as an elfmaiden, smiled at the pair of dragons genially, and sat on a convenient stump where she pulled out her harp, entirely unconcerned and at her ease.

"Hello Veraxitoc. Do introduce me to your young friend, hm?" she said, with sparkly brightness.

[Brisinger987]

Veraxitoc looked up at Ornusjalil, who was in her human form.

"Hello Ornusjalil, this is Methusela, my nephew. Methusela, this is Ornusjalil, a friend of mine." Veraxitoc spoke coolly. Methusela was, in his eyes, his protection against violence. Veraxitoc refused to let him be exposed to violence at such a young age. He would be taught that fighting was wrong. And Veraxitoc couldn't leave Methusela. If he lost Methusela he would never forgive himself.

"Hello Ornusjalil. Is Uncle Ver your boyfriend?" The child had clearly been talking to the nymphs in the lake. Damn nymphs were the worst thing Veraxitoc could think of.

In response to the question, Veraxitoc was stunned.

"Wha-?! No, no, no no no. Me and Orusjalil are just friends. JUST friends." Veraxitoc said. He felt his face heat up, and no doubt his scales were flaring. His species equivalent of blushing was just the flaring of cheek scales. Simple, but obvious.

[Nemo]

Ornusjalil looked blankly from her ancient enemy to the child, and back again, and blinked. Veraxotoc was quick to correct the child, and his correction made her blink... but this was kinda what she wanted anyhow, wasn't it? She smiled. "That's right, I'm just a very old... friend of his." she said, eyeing Veraxitoc. Surely the boy was innocent and Ornusjalil could not agree more - he should remain so. Her look, thus, said very clearly that she was fine with that if he was. Even so, she looked from the boy to his blushing face again and there was a definite mischief about her grin, well suited to her elven face. "Nice to meet you, Methusela. That's a very fine name - may you fill it well." He just might she thought.

"We just haven't seen each other in a long time." she continued, and smiled directly at Veraxitoc. The whole subject of necromancy and power-mad old dragons was to be left entirely out of the conversation. It didn't count. Her belly protested otherwise with big purple and blue flags with hornpipes of pain, but she ignored them completely - pillock wounds, being petty and weak! She'd give them a right thrashing when she got home - only, of course, she wouldn't. Ouch.

"So you're serious, Veraxitoc." she said - it was less a question and more a statement on safe grounds. She wanted to hear him talk about it, so she could watch his face. She needed convincing he was serious before she'd ever trust him, that was clear. But... she was willing to listen. She was here, wasn't she?

[Brisinger987]

"Very serious Ornusjalil. I am starting to feel my age now that I am settling down with my new Colony. I am atoning and making amends. I wish to die with as little regret as possible. Our days of fighting are gone now, and I refuse to revive them." Veraxitoc was speaking plain truth. He may only be 2,000, but he felt so ancient, so old. He felt he might even be close to his time. So he was atoning, begging forgiveness, paying respects and debts. He didn't know why. He just felt the time was right for it.

"So, that leads me to my first deal. No more fights? No more violence? Friends, even if we come to petty banter and competitive rivalry? I think our first order should be to put violence and spite aside." He held out his paw in friendship. She was a good person. They needed to work past the bad blood between. Especially after the Blight incident. Veraxitoc had basically fled that. It was best to be forgotten.

"Did you two fall out and not be friends for a while?" Methusela asked with a rather saddened tone.