Rain and Bath House

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Streets of Alexandria

It was raining. The reunion with Jacob, Aelwyn's brother, had not gone the way the ruddy sith-makar perhaps had hoped. Instead, the air was filled with questions of fiends, noble conspiracies and - heartfelt terror. The Temple of Vardama stood behind him, as Aelwyn stepped out.

The familiar ribboned glaive is raised and stretched out across the draconian's shoulders; and he lets out a languid, cat like stretch that lets the cool water hits his usually very sensitive scales. With a low rumble, the inscribed flame lights itself into its typical flame.

"Tch. With enough imagination and desire, this one can nearly feel the warmth of the hearth and the taste of a drink by the nearest tavern." He rumbles in amusement, before lowering his spear down and slowly makes his way forward with thunking clicks of his toe claws.


By the time that Aelwyn exits from the temple, Rune is already outside, having left a short time before. She stands beneath an overhang, hood drawn up, a few strands of dyed hair cling damply across her forehead. She watches the rain with a quiet expression, lost in her own thoughts.

At least, until Aelywn's draws her back to the moment. Rune calls out, "I don't know, I think the real thing is far better than anything that can be conjured up out of imagination and desire." With the streets largely empty, her voice carries easily enough.

She doesn't immediately raise the topic of his brother. Rune knows well enough that family can be a difficult thing to speak about, especially when family are tied up in dark happenings. Instead, she just steps out into the rain, pulling her hood forward a bit more, "Join me for drink? Seems we could both use one."


Aelwyn didn't rush to turn around - or even reply, instead soaking up the rain for a moment. A rarity in itself. With a roll of his shoulders, he flashes his teeth over at Rune.

"This one nearly presumed Twin would never ask." The Dragoon replies and lowers his hand from around the haft of his weapon, letting the pointy tip hang up in the air. "And one can conjure many things out of imagination in the heat of the desert." He whips his tail about. "Sometimes, very rear ones."

Gesturing, he motions for Rune to lead the way. "Drink and a dance by the Ports, a civilized discussion by the wine in the Trades, or shall this one spoil her with a spirit and a bath by the TarRaCe?"


Rune raises an eyebrow, as if she were considering Aelwyn for a moment, "While the dangers of Alexandria never sleep, they've quieted enough that I don't mind stealing the few moments of relaxation I can manage." She blows a bit of rain off of where it trickles down her forehead and off the tip of her nose, "Besides, seems we both have issues with family. That's enough to earn a drink."

At all the proposals offered out, the half-sil seems to consider each for a moment, "I do still owe you a dance, but with the rain... the baths seem like a far more enticing idea." Shrugging her bag up across her shoulders, the rogue motions for him to lead the way.

"You seem in fair spirits, all things considered." She glances over, "Then again, I didn't even have to draw my blades, so I suppose your brother is safer than most matters of family that we run into these days."


The orange gaze lowers, and there is a flash sombreness as Aelwyn looks somewhere beyond than what he was staring at. A moment later, he raises his head and gives her a wide, macabre grin. "Ah, if he wished to kill me, then he could have." He replies with an odd, poignantly cheerful voice, "I knew he would not."

Walking over her, the ruddy sith-makar puts his hand on the half-sil's shoulder. "Tch, this one feels as if someone is avoiding to have a dance with this one. Is it fear of misstep," He leans closer with a flick of his forked tongue. "Or is she afraid she might get a little too hot?"

Gesturing with his glaive forward, proudly, he then starts leading them across the rainy streets. "Let us then, commiserate our families, and drown their troubles under the heat of the baths and wash away the sorrows with the drink of life."


"No, he couldn't have." Rune replies, a bit of an edge to her voice as she briefly rests her hands on the blades that are sheathed at her sides. "Because I would have killed him before he had the chance." She sounds certain about this. The words of someone who has lost enough people close to her.

"But... I am glad it didn't come to that. I can understand all too well what he's dealing with." She reaches up and taps at the side of her head, "Had enough people fuck with my head for a lifetime. Though... I imagine if we find the demon, we might be able to mitigate some of the influence."

She walks along at pace with Aelwyn, her expression a bit too serious in that moment. At least, until he mentions her avoiding that dance he has offered for so long. A hint of color shows on her freckled cheeks as she shakes her head, "Maybe a little. I'm not as good a dancer as you are, we both know that."

"Not so many sorrows, so far as I can see." Rune lifts a brow, "You have your brother back. Maybe not whole, but he'll get there. I have my mother, even if she sometimes gets lost in memories of timelines that never existed. Maybe things will never be just as they were, but it seems like these are things to celebrate?" "


Aelwyn then pauses for a moment and looks towards Rune for a time. His usually burning bright orange eyes seemed dull at that moment. "... this one is glad then, it did not come to that." It felt as if there was something else he wanted to say - but perhaps those words were already in the past.

So instead, he walks up to Rune and slides his free arm about her, to try and knock her around in a bit of a spin and lean. "Tch, besides - dance is about freedom. As long as she does not stab this one with those knives, we can all suffer a little bit of heat in our bodies, surely?"

At the words of celebration, there's a low rumbling growl and the Dragoon indignantly flicks his head about. "Ah, she speaks this one's language now. What is there else to celebrate than now?" He flicks his tail, and spins about to head on further down the street.


Rune is not ignorant to the dull quality in Aelwyn's eyes when she makes that statement, but she is resolute in her response. "He may be your brother, but you matter more to me than he does." She states, as if this were simple fact. "Every time someone's life hangs in the balance, we make that choice - who matters more. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I let you die at your brother's hands. Even if that's what /you/ would chose for yourself."

She shrugs then, knowing that this is one of those places where their views may very much go in different directions. It doesn't change her feelings, however.

Thankfully, that darker line of thought is pulled from her by the sudden spin and the lean of Aelwyn with that arm supporting her weight. Rune's feet slide a little on the wet ground, but his arm keeps her from tumbling completely. "I have no intention of stabbing you." She quips back, getting her feet back under her, she makes no such comments about his other insinuation.

Giving a slight shove at his chest and pulling her hood back up to ward off the rain, Rune watches his spin with a look of amusement, "Mmm. Normally, I'd celebrate the little victories, but this time it feels like a big one. Even if some battles aren't over." Her feet continue to follow, making soft splashes in the rain-slick street.


Aelwyn turns to look at her again, with a softer expression on his face. As far as one could carry one with a jaw full of teeth, horns and a mane of quills. "Ah, but she would shatter this one either way." His grin widens a touch. "Quite the fiendish choice, is it not?"

The ruddy Dragoon taps her ankles with his tail. "Let us not worry of what ifs." He says, and then shakes his head as if to shake those thoughts away. It was, after all, a time for celebration.

"Ah, do not speak the words of 'big celebration' near this one, or she shall be dragged down to the gutter, to above, and down to gutter, only to be left spent and sated after a whole night traversing throughout the streets of this wet city." The draconian warns with a flash of his teeth and spinning around, heedless of the water flicking from his soaked body. "Granted, that is easier when the locals do not recognize one's face."

Walking across the mostly empty streets, the pair soon turn towards the one leading at the promised warmth of the TarRaCe. "Speaking of victories -" Aelwyn steps closer towards Rune. "... how is her mother?"


"I'd rather you be alive to be angry at me, than the alternative." Rune replies, leaving it at that. The tap of the tail gets a small nod of her head, content enough to not have to worry about the issue again, at least for the time being.

"My ruddy-scaled friend, I have seen the gutter. I have lived the gutter. I have been the gutter." Rune smirks with a shake of her head. "Though, it has been quite a long time. Not since my days pilfering pockets and snatching priceless heirlooms from stuffy Sildanyari nobles." Another lifetime, it seems.

"Don't think I've gotten myself properly sloshed since before I died." She admits, as if surprised by how long it has been. "I imagine, working with the folks at the TarRaCe, that it's a bit easier for you to find yourself deep in cups." She raises a brow.

As they turn towards the bath house, Rune quiets for a brief time, until the question draws her from her thoughts. "As good as one might expect. Getting used to having an adult daughter who is physically older than she is. Struggling with memories that conflict with one another and sometimes forgetting when or where she is. Don't even get me started on what I had to tell her about my father, oof. That was a mess."


"Ha!" Aelwyn exclaims. "Then she knows what the climb is from the port towards noble districts." He twists his lips in amusement, before he falls beside her in step. "Or the long trek from the caravan markets through the winding alleys towards to bask oasis in the center."

At the mention of being sloshed, Aelwyn makes a dramatic double take. Then he leans in with a wide toothed grin. "Lava has truly rubbed a permanent mark on Twin with those serious eyes of his, has he not?" Then there's a moment, and he tilts his head. "... does Lava even drink?"

When the TarRaCe was mentioned, the Dragoon-slash-waiter takes in a deep breath. "Tch, to find a deep cup after work - it can be a dangerous affair." He clicks his teeth, before he rumbles in amusement. "Filled with sharp teeth and morning regrets."

He doesn't rush her as she falls silent, instead leading the way with his flaming glaive serving as kind of a beacon. Turning towards her, Aelwyn slows down enough to put his hand around her. "Eventually, her mind shall be flooded with memories of now. One lives to forget."


"I used to." Rune confirms, lifting her shoulders slightly. "Went on the straight and narrow long before I came to Alexandria." Her lip quirks, "Thankfully, most of that was back in the Mythwood, and my father was rich enough to be able to smooth over any time I got caught." Her tone takes on just a bit of a rueful sound, as if she weren't exactly happy for her father's interference.

"Hark?" She seems to think about the answer for a moment, "On a rare occassion." Eyebrows drawn in thought, "I guess maybe he just doesn't want to risk being intoxicated when someone might need him. You know, life-saving spells and all that." Rune waggles her fingers.

At the mention of regrets, "Is that so?" She peers over at Aelwyn, "I never thought of you as the sort of person who'd regret anything you did, come morning. Someone that bad in bed, or did you do something that the authorities frowned upon in the light of day?"

As for her mother, Rune just offers a quiet, "I hope so." In response.


The ruddy sith-makar stares at Rune for a time, before he squeezes her. "Time shall tell."

"Ah, clerics." Aelwyn lets out with a low growl, "Always believe if they cease to breath for an instant, the world shall cease." He spreads his hand, but then looks at Rune. "Though, this one hopes Twin has shown either him his folly - or at least made his end spectacular." He teases with a passing hip bump.

Clicking his teeth, the Dragoon slips out in front of her, arms spread. "Now, this one isn't completely heartless." He flicks his tongue. "But one cannot walk through fire with regret in their step." He turns to look at the approaching TarRaCe.

"Our Troupe had a peculiar rule that this one grew to hate." Aelwyn turns to look at her. "We never performed twice in the same city. We might have stayed for a day, a week, a lifetime, but once we left -" He makes a swooping gesture with his hand, aiming it at the sky. "Only the road saw us return."


The squeeze to her side is met with a soft smile and a nudge of her head against his cheek in a distinctly Makari fashion. Despite growing up among the Sildanyari, she certainly has adopted a few of the lizardfolk mannerisms.

That color returns to her freckled cheeks in a blush as she shakes her head, "I don't know about that, but I do my best, and he's never complained in that regard." She smirks, then shrugs. Despite much of her bravado elsewhere, Rune isn't one to comment much on her intimate relations.

Watching as he spreads his arms wide, Rune cocks her head to the side. While he displays it as some grand gesture to follow this rule of the troop, she sees it a different way, "That seems pretty lonely, if you ask me." She brushes some of the rain away from her forehead, tugging at her hood. "Then again, I've never been a one-night-stand sort of girl. Not that I didn't have my share of offers."

Pulling her cloak closer, Rune asks, "If you came to hate it, why live by it?"


"Is it?" Aelwyn asks, curious. "One meets many people, both passing and close - yet all move along, one day." The draconian says, then rolls his shoulders and makes a sinuous motion with his body. "To answer that question - family." He looks at her. "It was the way we lived. To return - would only invite trouble. It all returns to family."

Pausing at the front of the TarRaCe, he holds his hand by the door and pauses. There was a long moment as the water rained down on his back, before he turns. "Besides," He carried a soft looking grin. "Who says this one did?"

"Speaking of offers, this one hopes this one can offer her a one-night massage." The Dragoon lifts up his finger. "Would not even be a stand." He teases, before opening the door for her.


While some part of Rune can understand the way of thinking that might have driven the troop, she also has her own experiences that differ quite widely. "It doesn't always work that way." She murmurs, "Sometimes, family are the ones that leave. I was the one that left my father, because I couldn't be /me/ under his foot. I just wish I hadn't had to leave my sister behind, too." Sadness clings to those words, but she takes a breath and pushes it aside quickly enough.

"And some people don't leave. They become a part of you." She touches her chest. "So it doesn't matter how far away they are, they are still here." Her hand lowers, "But, I can understand wanting to protect yourself by not letting people in. I was like that, myself, for a long time."

At the door, she gives him another curious look, perhaps not quite certain what to make of his comments. It wouldn't be the first time. "You know what I mean." She pokes him right in the snout as she walks by. "And a massage is fine."


Aelwyn's nostrils flare inwards at the snout boop. The mortal enemy against all makari. He twists his nostrils and attempts to not rub at his face. "Perhaps this one does not always understand the local words." He calls out after her with a flicker of tongue.

Walking in after her, he gazes around the room - it was TarRaCe. Warm, people, busy bar, food. Even a show was being set up somewhere. A far cry from the sombre, even morbid, atmosphere of the temple.

The draconian continues until he is standing besides her again. "Two runaways," He comments quietly, then tilts his head towards her, knocking lightly. "Yet one does not run away from family." There's a hesitation, as if he wanted to add something - but he shakes his head. Instead, his smile widens slightly, leaning against the bar with a decadently languid poise.

"It is quite the opposite, Twin." He gestures at the few ribbons now adorning his horns. "This one lets people in all the time, his heart bleeds." He greets the bartender with a nod of his head, then gestures towards the rogue. "Wine for the bath?"


"Perhaps he understands them and pretends he does not." Rune replies with a shift raise of one hand and a waggle of her fingers as she steps in to the bath house. The humidity has her taking a slower, deeper breath as she takes off her cloak. She's quick to hand it off to one of those who works the laundry facilities, hoping for it to be somewhat dried before she has to leave.

"I suppose there's some truth in that." Rune admits, running a hand through her damp hair to try to ease it from being plastered against her scalp. "I still love my father, despite everything he's done to me. And I still love my sister, even if he's forbidden me to see her since she was little." It is the later that seems to actually hurt her, though. Rune's father had made his choices, but her sister? "It's a small blessing that she was probably too young to remember me."

And this is where she /does/ run away, quickly throwing that topic into the dark place in her mind where her sorrows linger and focusing instead on the here and now. Which just so happens to have her head lifting to watch him posing against the bar. So, she responds with humor, "If it does, you should get that checked out by one of the clerics." Her brows raise, "Wine is good."


"Tch, would not the cleric this one knows simply say it is fatal? Where is the healing touch in that?" Aelwyn calls out with a low rumble and an amused flick of his tail. Taking a moment to bargain with the bartender, he too heads up into the bath area, two bottles held in the fingers and his glaive resting against his shoulder.

The Dragoon is quick to shed his weapon and the cloak; carefully leaning the former, haphazardly tossing the latter. He'd probably do the same with his half of a breastplate if the leather straps were more yielding. Around this time, he walks over her and offers one of the bottles. "This one hopes she does not miss a glass - for bottles float better." A widening grin.

"Are Lava and Twin planning to stay longer in the city?" The Dragoon then suddenly asks, as he sheds off the breastplate and slides his fingers down to his loincloth. For a moment, it may have seemed if he'd just pull it off as well - but nope, Sharkie's judging sharp teeth have made sure to bite such adventurousness long ago.


"I don't know. You could always ask for some laying of hands." Rune teases, looking over her shoulder towards the Makari. "I'm sure you wouldn't have too much problem convincing them."

Rune accepts the offered bottle, "Not a problem." Unconcerned about proper etiquette, it seems. As Aelwyn starts to remove the rest of his gear, Rune joins him in the process, though she seems to carry a fair bit more. A travel pack, two blades, two daggers, and then an array of accessories which are all shoved into the pack before she strips down to her just a close fitting top and shorts.

More unusual, perhaps, is that with this lack of her usual clothing, it's obvious that Rune's tattoos are far more extensive than one might have guessed. It starts on her cheek but extends down that entire side of her body to her ankles and wrists.

"I don't know that we ever plan on settling down somewhere, but for the time being, yeah. There's a few things we need to attend to that all seem to involve the city." She explains, then looks over towards him, "What about you? Still dealing in bread and performances for the time being?"


Aelwyn leans away and shamelessly stares over Rune's exposed body - it may not have been first time, but who can blame him for adoring the exposed tattoos? He steps closer and rumbles sibilantly. "Oh, is that the way this one tempts Lava to heal this one's heart?" He throws back at her.

And lightly touches one of her tattoos, crawling along the line with the tip of his claw. There's that thrumming rumble of a very interested Makari.

Leaning away once more, he shrugs off the last of his leather straps and the saddle, throwing it nonchalantly off to the side with a quiet and notoriously empty thud. He barely had any potions on him at best of times! Just lot of soft pouches.

Clicking his teeth, the Dragoon picks up his macabre grin. "Ah, this one still longs for the road, and cries for the sky." He leans his neck back, before sliding right besides her. "Yet this one was hoping that they were staying - as this one would wish for them to witness this one's bid for a Cavalier."


Raising one eyebrow, Rune smirks, "Your guess is as good as mine, there. If you've been trying at temptation, you'd be better off seducing a statue at the temple of Vardama. Clerics and their indominable willpower." She laughs with a shake of her head.

In the past, Rune might have reacted differently to the lines of her tattoo being touched, but something has changed recently. Since their return, she seems more comfortable in her own skin, as if she had claimed the markings as her own, somehow.

She is, however, quick to uncork the bottle and take a swig before heading towards the baths, "You know, I've ridden on the back of a giant insect, and been carried by angelic wings, and I'm not sure I see the appeal." Rune looks over her shoulder. "Maybe you should ask Harkashan to take you for a flight, sometime."

Then, her head tilts as she moves to sit at the edge of one of the pools, "Bid for a cavalier? What exactly does that entail?"


"Tch, maybe this one shall try a direct lapdance." The Dragoon clicks his tongue, crossing his arms as Rune leads away. "Best this one can do outside Am'shere." He spreads his hands in obvious defeated suffering, flicks his tail and the flickers his tongue at her, before disappearing.

A few moments later - very short moments later - he appears with one hand adjusting his black tight trunks. He was obviously grumpy about it, and his tail was flicking around irately. His own bottle was hanging off his free hand.

"Hmmh, this one has considered such. What is there in the sky?" Aelwyn replies to her when she speaks of her experiences with the sky. He stops standing beside her. "It is not the flight. This one does not wish to fly." He takes a sip from his bottle. "Yet something calls out to this one there."

That tail then starts to wind around her shoulders - up until Aelwyn suddenly leaps off into the water, splashing loudly. A moment later he resurfaces, holding up his wine bottle victoriously. Grinning up at her, he adds. "And this one knows - since Lava does give a wild ride."


"Probably would work better than the subtle methods, honestly." Rune replies, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips. "I don't know if Harkashan even /does/ subtle, at least outside of diplomatic negotiations."

Rune lingers at the edge of the pool for a moment, until Aelwyn returns. She seems about to answer, but then he is splashing into the water and she raises a hand to keep the water away from her face. "The clouds, the sun, the moon, the stars." Despite having taken off most other things, Rune still wears her necklace, which she lightly grasps, "I can understand the appeal, trust me. It's just... the falling part that I don't care for."

Slowly, she slips into the water, letting out a sigh as it seems to seep into her bones after being out in the cold rain. She doesn't swim, though, just stays near the edge, folding her arms across it and resting her head on those arms. "I don't think that's the sort of riding that the cavaliers have in mind." She teases again with that amused tone to her voice. "So what are you going to ride, then? Horses? Swiftclaws?"


"Oh, but falling is the best part." Aelwyn says, sliding further into the pool. "The moment where only life remains, all decisions left bare, for one's heart to accept the fate." Briefly, he sinks - but he then reappears, water sliding off his horns and down along the mane of quills. The few red ribbons clung wetly against his horns, as he kicks his way over and lands wetly against the pool's edge besides her.

Grinning with his sharp teeth on display, he leans against her. "Or is she afraid Lava would not catch her?" He asks teasingly. "Usually they say when one catches their heart - that is the best part of the play." There's a low rumbling sound of amusement.

At her question, teh ruddy sith-makar pulls down the bottle from his jaw. Bottles were a lot easier to consume for him. "Ah, yes. This one hasn't decided." He clicks his teeth and turns to look somewhere. "A cavalier told this one they trained with their mount for life." The draconian turns to look at Rune. "Unfortunately, Lava and his wings do not count."


The way that Aelwyn describes the sensation of falling, feels a bit too much like something else Rune has experienced. It causes her breath to catch slightly and her hand to come up to her chest. She closes her eyes, taking a deep, slow breath to ease the anxiety spiking her pulse. "Yeah... the problem is that I know that feeling all too well." Rune knows all about that feeling before death.

There is a haunted look in her eyes when he asks about Harkashan 'catching' her. As if she were re-living that moment of looking up at Harkashan as she struggled for breath, dying in his arms. It sends a shiver through her, despite the warmth of the bath as she shakes her head. Perhaps it isn't what Aelwyn means in that moment, but it is where Rune's mind goes, regardles. "I'd rather he didn't... not again."

When her eyes open again, Rune reaches for her own bottle and takes a long drink, then lays her head in her arms, looking back over at Aelwyn, that shadow still visible in her gaze, "Seems to me, not everyone has to follow the same path to get to the same outcome. Just need to find a beast who has a spirit that resonates with yours."

She hesitates, then offers, "When I was little, I remember my mother used to spend time with the wolves of the Mythwood forest. Father would always warn me away, said they were dangerous, but... she seemed at home with them." Rune lifts her shoulders slightly, "Have you ever met a horse or swiftclaw or other beast that just felt... right?"


Aelwyn tilts his head, mouth opening. Slowly, he makes his way closer and then wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer towards him. "You are here and now, Rune." He tells her firmly, horned head laying against hers. "One shan't gaze towards the fall when one walks the rope."

Leaning away then, and turning around to put his back against the edge of the pool, he turns to look at her. He clicks his teeth in thought. Then another longer though, taking a sip from his wine. "This one knows he has to ride," He tilts the bottle. "And this one shall ride a dragon." His orange eyes turn to look at her, gauging her reaction.

Then a sly grin appears on his macabre teeth - and he leans closer. "Though this one finds it quite tempting to know, that there is little wolfish something with Twin." He flicks his tongue out with a gentle swipe at her. "Explains why she is so territorial."


When his arm slips around her, Rune leans in against the Makari for a moment, allowing his presence to help ground her in the moment. "I know." A year ago, she might have avoided revisiting those dark moments. Though they still linger with her, she has learned to cope. "I'm alright." She reassures him.

As he goes on to reiterate his dream about riding a dragon, Rune shows little in the way of judgement. "I hope you find one, then." She lifts the bottle of wine in a toast to him at that. "I imagine that will be the real challenge. The only ones I've encountered personally is Tanith, and she's too small to ride." She hrms thoughtfully, "And there's Harkashan's patron, but I don't imagine that one will be accomidating, either."

The sly grin gets a lift of an eyebrow in response. "Territorial? Me?" She looks a bit surprised at that. "I mean, I'm protective of my friends, but beyond that... not really." The half-sil looks perplexed.


Aelwyn rolls back around to lean against the side of the pool with his front. He holds up his bottle and clinks it against Rune's, before taking a deep swig of it. "This one should ask more about Lava's patron. Maybe they are the one this one is being called by?" He asks with a flash of his teeth, and a strong flick of his tail under the water.

"Hmmh," The Dragoon exhales then - and this time it is he who completely seems to lose all his air. He clicks and grits his teeth. "Though, many a thing would be simpler now - if that feeling remained a feeling." Another roll off the bottle, and he takes a deeper drink from it.

Then it is back to Rune - and he slides closer. The ruddy sith-makar puts his elbow onto the edge of the pool and rests his chin upon the hand, giving the half-elf a steady look. "Hmm. Perhaps a pack animal, then." His slit pupils widen and then narrow. "Howl at the moons?"


"I'm sure Harkashan could arrange some sort of introduction, if that's something you actually wanted." Rune answers softly, "Last time, I think it involved copious amounts of questionable substances, burnt in a ritual in Am'shere." Though she had been present, the half-sil was not effected the same way that Harkashan had been. "Reminds me... I should probably figure out how to contact Blue if I need to."

She seems thoughtful about this, but her gaze flicks over to him as he exhales and makes that vague comment. Rather than respond directly, she just leans her head over and rests it against his shoulder as he leans closer.

"I don't know. I'm just me... not Human, Not Sildanyari, not Makari, definitely not wolf." Rune has never fully felt that she belonged anywhere, but at the same time, she seems happy enough among those she considers friends. "If you want to go howling at the moon, it's my mom you'll want to take along. That sounds like just her sort of thing."


Aelwyn lets her rest her head against him; and he slides off the edge of the pool down enough to wrap his arm around her. "Ah, now this one is even more interested in meeting this Lava's patron." He rumbles at her playfully. "Perhaps we should try burning copious amount of Goblintown spices and see if that works for her?" That grin widens, as his tongue flickers out.

The Dragoon looks at her for a moment longer though, then clicks his teeth. "This one never met many Makari over the Golden Sands." He tells her, a low rumble leaving his chest. "This one was given to the Troupe very young." Then he gives her head a bit of a touch with his own. "And there nothing of such mattered."

"But, she is giving this one so many ideas." The ruddy sith-makar continues, tilting his head at her. She can feel his hips bumping against hers; before his tail idly wraps about her ankles. "Though a certain wild child holds far more interest."


"Well, you know who to ask." She replies, knowing full well that Harkashan is still discovering the extents of his own connection with his Patron, "As for Blue, I think she'd be more likely to respond to a musical performance." The thought of Goblintown spices has her raising a brow, though.

"Not so different, being raised in the Troupe, I imagine. Then again, it seems like they may have a culture all of their own, as opposed to living within the culture of others." She seems curious about that.

"Ahh, yes, the wild-child who nearly got herself arrested more times than she can count, and may or may not still be banned from certain Mythwood establishments." Rune smirks, "I consider myself a rebel against stodgy, serious, Sildanyari customs. As a measure, I view almost anything that would irritate my father has something worth considering."


"Ah, a caravan cafe." The Dragoon says, wistfully. "With hookah and lute." He bumps her hips against with his own. "This one is certain one shall find a connection there." Perhaps not to Blue - but at the very least, somewhere.

Aelwyn's expression and he lets out a click again, twisting his lips. "It was a surprise how different - this one thought things that are common sense beyond the sea would not be so exotic." He tells her - but then he grins. "Though this one can get used to many customs in Am'shere." Because of course he would.

Twisting his lips again, the ruddy sith-makar leans his head against Rune's. "She does understand that this one carries quite the urge to see how fast the two of us can land in hot waters, yes?"


"May be something worth trying sometime. Though I also don't want to go knocking on her metaphorical 'door' too often. An irritated Fey doesn't make a good Patron." Rune smirks.

"You probably have the better way of looking at it." She admits, leaning to nudge her head against his. Then, Rune moves to push herself up from the water. Water drips off of her as she gets to her feet, offering a hand out to him.

"I think I've had my fair share of hot water, for the moment. I believe /someone/ was promosing me a massage." She raises a challenging brow. "You coming? Or should I go ask Irshya for someone else to assist me."


Aelwyn remains on the water and watches her rise up - because of course he would. "This one feels he has the better way of looking at it, yes." Grinning up at her, he snaps his teeth at her fingers.

Taking hold of it though, he easily climbs up onto the pool's edge, grabbing his wine bottle. "Oh, now that felt like someone is attempting to get a rise out of this one." He replies with a low, long click from his mouth. Then he grins, and moves to bump his hips against hers.

"She is in luck, because this one is always up for the challenge." He flickers his tongue, and then moves to walk up at her with his usual lazy, rolling gait, as he leads the half-sil away.