Veride blossomed into a smile along with the rest, truly naive in her innocence, but still wondering all the same. So as the mirth calmed down, she cocked her head at the pair then went quiet and thoughtful a moment.

"Even we have spiders, their webs catch the sweat morning dew. They glitter like diamonds.. but... like the spring Robin eats the worm, there are cycles to respect in turn," she went on, het demeanor more restrictive, almost solemn, the words, however, spoken as if repeated for several lifetimes a plenty. 

For they had been. Veride, naive as she were, understood some mushrooms were bad and some animals hunt to kill. It was nature's weigh- the balance...

Yet still... she existed in a land of life. Death and decay were at the very bottom and only seen as the byproduct of the soil for which spring may rise and grow.

Veride studied the pair, still thoughtful.
Then her eyes lit anew.

"Oh... is it like the worms that eat the fallen leaves.. or the apple of a tree?"

Yes, yes.. it seemed she was on a thiught and tugged at it, ever curious.

There was a suddenly cry of alarm and a flare of fire. Striker shielded his eyes as he glanced over at rhe commotion, then found himself simply gaping.

No.. there was no way...

But before his eyes, could he dare deny it? The way claws raked into the air, growing and elongating into wicked curls. And the way her face warped and stretched and her body grew...

By Kia's breath... Valerie was turning into a dragon.


A dragon.. just like the curse of her mother.

Striker managed to break his gaping stare to realize the opportunity this presented him. No use pretending he was still bound, the man dropped to his knees and reached for the guardsmen nearest his side and grabbed him unceremoniously by the belt of his pants.

The soldier, who had been so transfixed by the sudden she dragon that he lost his balance and was easily smashed into the side of the wagon, before crumpling unconscious.

He kept his grip on the man, and grunted as he reached for his weapons, first pocketing a knife- then attempting to reach for his blade.

It was only then another soldier noted, this one carrying a long spear. Not wanting to be skewered inside the cage, he dropped the other soldier as the spear lanced at his hands. Quick thinking had him slapping hands around the bladed end, halting the attack and surprising the guard. He then used that to his advantage, as he gave the spear a sudden, hard PULL and smashed the second guard into the wagon.

With the spear secure, he looked back towards the first soldier and uses the butt end of the spear to prod the Man's side.

Come on.. come on.. where were the damn keys!?

"Kolara..."

Where was she? The world was ablaze-- a sea of crimson whisked back and forth like a storm with a mind of it's own, blinding her vision and causing her to squint. What happened? She tried hard to remember, while attempting to fan the flames away from her with arms and wings, but they didn't seem to disperse. If anything, they got closer. Hotter. Normally they listened to her-- why weren't the flames listening to her?

And-- Arlen! What happened to Arlen? They were licking their wounds after that fight with the leviathans, and-- and what happened after that? She couldn't remember-- the flames creeping closer to her skin were too distracting, the smoke filling her lungs making it hard to focus. She needed to escape, before--

"Kolara... my love... It's okay..."

She froze in place-- in whatever place she was. Her squinting eyes widened at the haunting voice just a few meters ahead of her. She recognized that voice-- How could she not? And as she desperately looked around her, she began to recognize the surrounding as well. The seashell collection on the wall that she was so proud of-- the cerulean drapes over the windows that she'd watched knitted so many years ago. She was home-- her mother's home. The voice wasn't far off-- she dashed through the flames, disregarding the burns she took as she did so-- her mind focused on reaching that weakened, sorrowful voice.

"My little baby... Someone... my baby is in there...!"

She could hear the fear, the pain-- the fires scorching her own body reflecting the tortures that the voice had to be experiencing. She couldn't find her. The voice was getting closer and closer, but she couldn't find her. Screams began to ring in Kolara's ears-- the maddening cries of someone close to her, the flames having likely closed in and engulfed their flesh-- their wings-- their soul. She couldn't find her-- why couldn't she find her!?

"No-- Kolara, my baby!! NO!!!"

~~~

It was difficult to tell how much time had passed before it happened. The table the phoenix-kin had been laid to rest upon came alive with flames-- Kolara alongside it. Like the foulest magic, her body itself seemed to set afire without so much as a warning as she lifted up from the table, as if possessed. Her eyes opened, but so engulfed by flames was she that little more than her glowing-red irises could be seen beneath. Her wings had recovered quite a bit in the time that she rested-- yet now, even they were enveloped in a supernatural fire which only seemed to continue to grow as the woman began to wander aimlessly away from the table, seemingly searching for an exit. For a blessing, her flames were relatively contained-- violent though they seemed, the fires of the table-- and the steps that she took-- didn't spread. Yet it was clear that something was wrong-- Kolara was not herself. Perhaps, in spite of her wide-open eyes, she wasn't even awake.

Ibra sat, fighting the urge to fidget.  She felt so foolish.. to ever leave her son's side at such a distance and for so long...

No.. she couldn't sit.. and stood suddenly, her face very pale, belaying any attempts she had to appear calm. 

"Faraji, I can't help but fear for our son. "
Thr words sounded blunt and painful, even to her own ears. But she went on.
"Of whomever did this is after me, and found me here of all places.. Faraji... our son is out there. On his way to the city. I.. he.."

She felt so helpless! What could she do!? He was so far away yet... thr icy chill of fear of the true danger he could be in made her entire mind, her entire being become gripped in panick.

"I can't sit here idly while thoughts of his safety plague me!"
She trembled, hating that she of all women could become so vulnerable. No, she had to be strong. Had to consider her precautions for him to maintain safe travels.

"I have to find him, Faraji. I should never have left him alone."

He couldn't help but feel her trepidation. Fae were strange that way.. emotions being palpable, especially towards one's you were in tune with. He found himself squeezing her hand, reassuringly and studying the strange darkness that marred their flesh deeply.

They couldn't linger, however, that beast of darkness was still close by. They had to keep moving.. keep hoping it wouldn't simply turn around.

They had been moving swiftly for some time, a thick and heavy silence joining them. It made Miersxk feel tense... strange.. akward as they moved before he finally slowed down when he dared and paused to regard Sophie.

Maybe it was the light, or the heightened emotions of their state, or even the fact the pair had already mated, but he couldn't help but stare at the young female in awe beside him. He'd never presumed he'd pair up with another type of fae before , he always presumed he'd find another moth fae....


But now..
Now there might not be any other moth fae...
And what was he to make of this young woman? Were they that.. mates? He felt a thrill through his veins at the prospect, and some strange hint of a smile tinged his lips as he continued to regard her.

But then he shook himself from his momentary distraction and gave her hand another squeeze.

"You okay? We can rest a little, but we ought to keep moving. "

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that," Carrot Top replied, looking earnestly regretful for Fletcher. "I didn't mean to drag up painful memories."

"No, no, no," a happily buzzed Theodore interjected. "He's not being fully honest with you," he admitted, leaning in to the other man who equally leaned in as well. "You see he's got himself someone. Veeeeeeery pretty—or at least so I've been told. Quite a tease though. And you know how this time of year is—everyone in the romantic mood. Everyone wants to be with their families. And then come January we have all the messes with the break ups and the draaaama and the scandaaaal. So what can you do? He's kind of in that limbo rut right now."

"Pretty you say?" The blonde—Freckles, Theo named him—piped up as he blew smoke rings. "Is she feisty?"

"Is she blonde? Or curvy?" His friend Spectacles chimed in.

"Do they like to read or bake?" Carrot Top was quick to add in as their little group expectantly looked to Fletcher for answers.

Theo began to knock the drinks back faster, and suddenly Fletcher wasn't so certain that the small plate he'd force fed the man still stood between him and a night spent holding Theo's hair back. But there was only one way to learn this particular lesson, and Theo was a grown man, and he'd work through it one way or another. Still, Fletch didn't realize just how tipsy the man had become until he placidly allowed himself to be pulled along by a complete stranger. Fletch followed along dutifully into a much quieter room.

He quickly realized what this was: men escaping their women for a moment of peace. If they hadn't all been nobility, he'd have felt at ease. Hell, they even treated him like one of them, here. As it was, though, he couldn't let his guard down entirely — but he did relax a bit now that they were finally out of sight of the girl. He declined the cigarette, opting to pull out his own case instead.

"I'll not turn down a smoke inside, though," he chuckled. "Thanks. And, er, Daw. Jack Daw." He busied himself lighting his smoke and leaned back against the wall, glancing briefly at Theo, who seemed to have gotten progressively more drunk in the last few minutes alone. Well. Fletch supposed carrying him to the carriage was one way out of this place. He returned his attention to Ginger and allowed a sly grin to break his usual ornery scowl.

"Been there. Done that. Can't recommend it, chaps, honestly. One good thing about being a widower, though: it's a great excuse to be a rake. No one looks twice at you for it."

Theo sulked until rough fingers were prying his own and the drink had returned to his hand. Then, he gave Fletcher a nod of thanks as Edwina carted him back into the throng.

The commotion as it turned out was another newly engaged couple announcing their good news. Theo downed his drink quickly and handed it off to a passing tray as he grabbed another to toast the couple. Edwina bounced excitedly beside him nearly spilling his drink in her own tipsy excitement. She quickly abandoned his side though to squeal and cheer with her friends as Theo hung back and simply watched.

He was so deep in his thoughts watching her though that when a hand latched onto his forearm and began to drag him along to another room, he simply went along with it, assuming that it was likely Fletcher. Given that he was deaf, he completely missed the future groom and the other engaged or married men encouraging him to join them in another room away from the dance floor where they could all smoke or drink in peace away from their women and the music.

"—man come too," a bright-ginger haired man said to Theo as he finally focused on the one dragging him along. 'Carrot top is NOT Devlin. Devly. Deviled Eggs.' The nobleman giggled softly to himself, knowing full well Fletcher would have something to say about that being his new nickname.

"It's so good to have you join us Honorable Lord Archer. I mean I've always wanted to make your acquaintance but you're such a hard man to approach and I mean I'm just me but like I have genuine deep respect for you sir. Would you like another drink sir? I see yours is empty—"

Theo blinked as he glanced and saw his drink was indeed empty. When had that happened? He took a seat on one of the room's many couches as another glass was pressed into his hand and the men passed pipes or cigarettes out among each other. Even Fletcher was offered some of each and seemingly treated as an equal rather than a servant once they all settled about the room.

"Perks of being engaged am I right?" A blonde man piped up as he elbowed a brunette beside him. "No more whining and decorations and boring conversations. Just a couple of dances, some nods of agreement, and now we can escape in here to have our own parties the way we want them to be. Let the ladies have fun to their heart's content. And then when you get them home," he wiggled his brows and made a rude gesture that had Theo looking away with a blush to sip at his drink. Was this the third? Fourth? Fifth maybe?

He looked to Carrot Top in time to see the man apparently asking Fletcher a question—his name? Ah that made sense. Oh and there he went continuing with the talking. Theo blinked again, emptying his glass and smiling as someone filled it again for him. 

"Do you have a partner? Married or soon to be too?"

Fletch rolled his eyes and sidestepped the nobleman's dramatic attempt to take his sword. Instead, he snatched up Theo's drink, pried open his fingers and pressed the glass into his hand. "Your drink, sir," he said as if to add some formality and a reason for touching the man. Up ahead of them, back inside, a commotion had risen abruptly, with nobles crowded around something that Fletcher couldn't see. "What now?" he grumbled.