Table for Three

Jigano had been born neither animal nor human but a race apart from both, though it took aspects from each. He was at ease in his animal forms, and found little reason not to follow his instincts in them, especially when those instincts aligned with those of his original fox shape. Though he preferred hunting his own prey - and had taught Isuma how to catch mice and voles and insects - he wasn't too proud to take advantage of someone else's hunt. Deepfrost was coming, and any food that he could stash or save up for the snows was worth the effort of doing so. If that meant scavenging for a meal instead of hunting and smoking his own prey, well, he wasn't too proud to take advantage of what nature offered.

That was how he found himself following a delectable wind of fresh death on his white raven's wings, Isuma gliding behind him, her mind a bubble of hunger and eager delight at the thought of a midafternoon snack. The light slanted warmly through branches ablaze with red and gold leaves, though the wind held a cooling bite that threatened a chilly evening soon to come.

The kill was near, the scent thick in his beak, and heavy enough that even Isuma's duller nose could catch it as they slowed their flight and came upon a small break in the trees. Not even a proper clearing, it was just a place of sparser trees where the prey had fallen to the wolf not so long ago. The white raven and the moon-pale gryphlet dropped to land on a branch overhead, peering down at the feast and considering the hunter thoughtfully. Should they drop down and steal a beakful of fresh meat, or wait a little longer until the she-wolf had sated her hunger enough to ignore a few dinner guests?

Ashetta

Ashe remember why you started.    To say that Ashe was a little rusty in hunting would be an understatement. Out in the storms, the best she could find were lizards, insects. and scrub roots. After the third wild hare escaped, she realized just how out of practice she was. Ashe spent the entire morning tracking and stalking small game, traversing the old woods with familiarity, hunting with decidedly less familiarity. She'd gotten too used to the wild storms masking her scent and her sound. it was just before the sun reached its zenith that she caught an irresistible scent on the wind: deer. Newly determined, she reminded herself of what she knew, and set off with her nose to the ground.    Not two hours later, Ashe stood triumphantly over the corpse of a small doe. Her breath clouded from her bloodied jaws as she lifted her head, drawing her tongue over her teeth. She remembered in Northaven when it had been frowned upon for Shapechangers to eat raw meat---it made their Original "betters" sneer with discomfort. She had responded with devouring the heart of her quite Original Master.    She took quick stock of her surroundings before dropping her head to rip free another strip of steaming meat, the flavor both primal and explosive. Her paw braced on the exposed ribs, yanking her head back with a determined growl. The flutter of wings above drew her attention as she bit down the morsel, and there... she tilted her head. There she found a familiar white raven, a stunning little griffin beside him.    Ashe licked her jaws, golden eyes glinting with curiosity. She hadn't known the man she sparred with had been Attuned until he found her with the others, but she recognized the raven easy enough. Afternoon, Jigs. She flicked her ear, glancing at the snowy griffin before she dropped her head back down, sinking her teeth into the deer's shoulder. Never got to thank you for the storm business....care to stop for a bite and some appreciation?

The big black wolf was healthier by far than the lean, almost scrawny beasts that he was used to seeing in the Woodlands. At first he thought the hunter was from the Greatwood, come seeking new territory or perhaps chasing prey across the barrier line, both too distracted to realize they had wandered from their greener pasture. Not until the golden-eyed beast looked up did he realize that there was far too much intelligence in that glance for a simple animal, and when the mental voice slid into his thoughts he almost fell off his branch at the sudden rush of familiarity. He hadn't known she could shift into an animal until the storm, and since then there had been too many things happening for him to think back on it, but now he realized she was like Remi: mage and shapeshifter both.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that, either, but that was becoming normal for his life lately.

Jigs, though. Really? But if she was doing it to get under his skin, he didn't intend to give the assassin the satisfaction. If you're offering, then yes, a bite would be appreciated. His mental voice was cool, though not as hostile as their last meeting had been. Still, he remembered Rory's fear of her, and he didn't try to snuff the ember of anger that still smoldered in his heart for the threats she had made against his mate.

Many things had changed since last they'd met, however. He had mellowed in some ways, but sharpened in others, and he had grown into a different kind of power than he had known on his world. Even more than that, though, the weight of his responsibilities no longer allowed him the petty satisfaction of growling and lashing out against those he did not like, for he had to hold himself to an uncomfortably high standard.

And you are welcome, though it is Amalia you truly have to thank. She was the one who led us out there that day. He dropped from the branch, falling in a graceful dive to the far side of the kill to begin worrying the eyes from the deer with his heavy, pale beak. One was gently presented to the little gryphon to play with, while the other slid down his throat with satisfying slickness. What were you doing in there? He finally inquired, almost reluctantly, as curiosity got the better of his aloofness.

Ashe remember why you started.    Ashe lifted her head again at the mention of Amalia, tracking Jigano's descent. Amalia--how is she? She had looked well at the wedding, but there was no helping the worry. She'd been struck in helping her, after all.    She watched for a moment longer as Jigano dug into the deer, flicking her ear back. Their last encounter had been here in these woods, and it had gone distinctly worse than this. She had been in a... dark sort of place. A place that had her grinning and telling a stranger she was an assassin, thinking it didn't matter anymore, that nothing mattered anymore. It was unsettling to think back on it now.    Jigano posed her a question, and she gave her pelt a shake before she sank her teeth into the warm meal once more. I was looking for Kalt, and our daughter. It was still hard to get those words out, her voice tense. I tried to stay just outside of it, to see if I could get any lead, and I got caught in an air current. No one is meant to get caught in those storms and make it out. And I have no idea how in the fuck I did. She left out the detail of the rings and their bond. Only her family knew of it, and that's how it would stay.    Her eyes turned upwards as she snapped down another bite. It wasn't too hard to guess why he had been out there. She had learned enough to know he was Amalia's friend, and he was the loreseeker. Have you learned much about the storms? she asked.

Concern for Amalia was one way to get on the bard's good side, though Ashetta had a farther way to go than most. The raven clacked his beak in quiet unhappiness, but channeled it by worrying at a bit of meat. Scarred, he said quietly. But the Healers were able to mend her well enough that she won't walk with a limp. His brave sister was a warrior of a different kind than those who wielded swords and bows, and though the injury had been gained as part of a rescue, still his heart ached for the new scars upon her skin.

He kept a blue eye on the wolf, watching her body language and wondering if her new caution was due to her own time in the storm, or some other lessons she had learned since then. Her words were curious, perhaps more than he realized, and he ushered Isuma to a place where she could more easily tear out tidbits to swallow whole. She wasn't a scavenger the way he was, but the kill was fresh enough for her not to turn her beak up at it. What made you think Kalt would have gone into the storm? Especially with a small child in tow. The only way out of the Hollowed Grounds currently was to the north, and the Greatwood, but surely she had a reason for the path she'd chosen?

Her question was, at least, one he could answer from a safely professional standpoint, and he croaked a laugh that held no humor. I have now seen the storms that stretch to the east and west. Full of lightning and wind, thunder and fury. Reports have been made of similar to the south, though I haven't made that journey yet, with everything else that has been happening. But they enclose us as completely as the Barrier did, in all directions but north. They stretch without break that I have been able to find, and rage without end. No human mage could create such, nor mortal sustain it for so long. Different bars, same cage, he concluded bitterly. The Greatwood is now ours to walk, though, so at least the cage is a little bigger these days. Rumors hold of another barrier beyond it, though. A single man only, and he's disappeared, so I don't know how reliable the information is. But it wouldn't surprise me, either.

Ashe remember why you started.    Scarred. Her ears fell back, and Ashe ducked her head back down to tear back into the dear, ignoring the twist in her gut. From what little she had learned about Amalia since she was rescued, she was a gentle person. She was not the kind of person that should have scars, least of all for someone like Ashe. I'm glad she's alright, was all she said.    Why would Kalt go out in the storms? Why? Why did he leave at all? Her pelt shuddered over her form, golden eyes guttering as she snapped her head back, ripping free a large strip of meat and fat. She tossed it toward the griffin without thought before drawing her tongue over her teeth. They aren't in the Hallowed Grounds.  Not in the Greatwood, or with the Fae. She didn't explain that even though she had scoured everywhere, she knew before she had looked that she wouldn't find him. If he was out of range of their bond, he was much further than that. I exhausted every possible place. That was my last shot.    Something sharp twisted in her chest, and she dug back into the deer with barely hidden frustration. She wasn't going to think about the aching want for her family. She couldn't. Instead she listened to Jigano explain his findings, and her eyes swiveled sideways as she thought.    Different bars, same cage. She raised her head at that, Frey's and Safrin's warnings both creeping up on her. They had warned her of much the same thing when she had been obsessing over the barrier. Have you spoken with the gods about it yet? she asked with a brief tilt of her head.    She shook out her pelt, eyeing the griffin. She almost wished she had brought Soot -- he would have enjoyed a friend to play with -- but he wasn't well suited to hunts. She nosed her way into the warmer meat of the deer, glancing back at the white raven. They're magic in nature, she confirmed, though he likely didn't need it. Her jaws crunched around a thick piece of cartilage, a soft growl slipping through her teeth as she did. Lighting is my element, and I couldn't rely on it out there. There were illusions. I couldn't rely on even the ground under me. There were.. figures in the clouds. Inhuman. Not animal.    She looked at Jigano, her eyes holding a different sort of weariness than she'd ever felt before the storms. Can I ask you something?

The sincerity of the platitude was carried by the Attuned link, and Jigano shifted uncomfortably, not liking his bias of the woman as a stone-cold killer-for-hire to be faced with such a humanizing side of her. She was an assassin who had challenged him to a fight (a spar, technically, but it wasn't without violence) at their first meeting, and then threatened the man he loved. Vai had told him a little more about her, an uncomfortable account of a child taken and twisted, but did that excuse the deaths she had caused?

If he couldn't forgive himself, why should he forgive her so easily? And it wasn't his place to do so, even if he could.

Uncomfortable thoughts, made more uncomfortable as she spoke of the search for her family. That was a sentiment he understood far too well, and he stabbed his beak deep into the deer to deal with his conflicting emotions, tearing free a bite and swallowing it down with more energy than was required. The storms, at least, were a comparatively neutral topic, and one he could discuss in spite of his wariness with his conversation partner.

Isuma was just happy to be eating, though she mirrored her companion's wariness - at least until the fresh meat landed in front of her, and she pounced upon it with gusto, making a mess of her foretalons and chest.

I have not, he said quietly, unwilling to explain to this dangerous woman that he and Safrin were... not on good terms. And that had been before she had become infected by the Blight. Though it makes sense if they're trying to keep the Ascended contained to a limited area. He stropped his beak against the deer's pelt, cleaning it roughly as he considered her own information, freely given in return, for which he was grudgingly grateful. Illusions? He hadn't gone far enough to find such, but somehow it wasn't surprising, knowing that the storms were essentially walls, hemming them in. We saw things to the east, as well, in the clouds, he acknowledged, shivering a little at the memory. Something larger than it had any right to be, and what looked like immense tentacles coiling in the heart of the storm...

Her weariness caught him off-guard, a sign of weakness he had not associated with the assassin before. He hesitated for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly, but in the end he was a lorekeeper, and his training came to the fore. I will not promise an answer, he warned her fairly, but yes, you may ask.

Ashe remember why you started.    Ashe slowed her eating as he described what he had seen in the storms, her pelt prickling with discomfort. Oh, she had seen them. She never got up close, of course. She was curious by nature, but she wasn't stupid. Usually. She supposed her actions over the last year proved what she had learned over the two years before that: she had no idea how to live outside the Guild.    She licked at a bloody section of the ribs and pressed her teeth down against the bone, tearing shreds from between the cage. I kept away from them. I'd see them in the flashes, and I hid. She felt no shame in the way she would huddle beneath overturned slabs of earth or behind stones. The storms were a harsh enemy, and she'd had no intention of taking on more. It was when she had no where to hide that things got dicey. So I've got nothing more than you do on those, unfortunately. They could have been illusions too for all we know.    Jigano was as caught off guard as she expected with her request. She licked at her jaws and sat back on her haunches, waiting with calm as his curiosity won over his disdain for her. There was a ripple of appreciation down their link she couldn't cover up if she wanted to -- his honesty in how he treated her was... refreshing. Frustrating, but refreshing, and not uncalled for. He had perhaps been only the second soul she had met since the Guild that was suitably put off by who and what she was. Even then, he had never been outright unkind to her. Only honest.    The she wolf nodded her head in a distinctly human way, one ear falling sideways as she slid her eyes to the ravenous griffin. If Amalia or Remi hadn't been there, she started, looking back over to the white raven. Would you have bothered to help me? Her golden eyes were inquisitive, her tone open. It wasn't as if she'd fault him if he answered with a resounding fuck no.

Curious he might have been, but he wasn't usually suicidal in his pursuit of easing that curiosity. He had no blame or disdain for her hiding from the creatures of the storm, great beasts that no single mortal stood a chance against, not when he would have done the same. Instead of judgment he simply accepted the knowledge that was offered, only bobbing his head in thoughtful agreement that they could have been illusions - something he had not come across in his initial eastern exploration party, when he had been adamant in urging Kiada and Amalia to not get too close to the storms. They had seen the lightning, felt the wind and thunder, and had known better then to risk themselves by flying into the storm itself.

Amalia's team might have kept their distance as well, if not for the humanoid form they'd seen in a momentary break in the clouds that had sent them racing in after it. For better or worse, he still didn't know, but Remi would never have left his sister and Amalia would not have left Remi and Jigano wouldn't have left either of them, and so it had gone.

The raven pulled a final gobbet of warm flesh free and swallowed it down as considered his answer, the meat sitting comfortably full in his first stomach. Hearing the question would do no harm, and he was admittedly curious about what the assassin would ask that required permission. He kept his blue eyes upon her as she looked to Isuma, wary of whether she would threaten the gryphon as she had once threatened his mate, but the question that came surprised him to stillness.

It wasn't a question with an easy answer, as she likely suspected. It was also a question that he found himself curious to know the answer to, and he let the silence stretch between them as he turned his thoughts inwards to try and discern what he felt.

Mistrust for her profession, but unwilling sympathy for how she had been forced into it. Anger that she had threatened Rory, but reluctant gratitude that she had been involved in bringing Ronin back somehow. The knowledge that she was the daughter of a friend, even if she took pride in being a killer.

...Yes... he finally decided, though with reluctance. If I had thought the risk you pose to the people I care for was too great, then I would have left you there. But for Vai's sake, and Remi's, and Ronin's... I do not have to like you or even forgive you to be willing to save you. He considered her soberly before unbending enough to offer her a reluctant admission. I carry enough ghosts. I would not add another to their number without better reason than what you have given me so far.

Ashe remember why you started.    As expected, his answer took time to come forth. Ashe let him think in silence, tearing into the hindquarters of the deer. She pulled free another strip of flesh and meat, tossing it once more to the zealous griffin. It was a beautiful creature, snowy and white and small, not anything like the griffins she read about back in Northwind. Then again, many of the things she had read in all those books she loved were quite different from this fantastical place.    She sat back again, drawing tongue over her bloody shoulder before he spoke again. Her eyes widened briefly, ears perking forward as she looked back at Jigano. She didn't think she should have been surprised, but she supposed it always caught her off guard when someone thought her worth their time or efforts. Her family -- they were the exception to the rule. She had fought with them, laughed with them, loved with them, suffered with them. She had found parts of herself she never knew existed with them. That was different. Jigano only knew the ego she wore like armor.    Ashe furrowed her brow in the way only canines could, and she dropped her troubled gaze to the ground. She wasn't sure if she was willing to discard it for him. She didn't owe him anything, she didn't need him to like her or see anything beyond her defenses of feral smiles and flashing steel. Did she?    You know what I am, she said without looking up. Her ears turned back, a betrayal of her true feelings. Some twisted, broken part of her she wasn't sure could ever be repaired still puffed up in pride at her skill, at her infamy. Most of her just hated it now. Hated herself. I understand your hatred. Slowly, her eyes lifted again. But this feels more personal, Jigano. Have I done something to you?

Small creature that she was, Isuma was reaching her own limit to how much she could eat, though her stomach had taken on a roundness that made her waddle as much as walk. She still peeped appreciatively as another morsel appeared before her, though mostly she was reduced to poking at it half-heartedly as she gravely considered whether or not she had room for one more bite.

Normally Jigano was amused by her kittenish hunger. She was mostly full grown, but less than a year old and still filling out the last bits and pieces of her fluffy, feathery little self. She was beginning to eat less like a little glutton, but when the opportunity presented itself she could still pack a large meal away. Ashetta's presence chilled his usual gentle humor with his companion, keeping him solemn and wary, uneasy and on edge. The question she asked kept him there, the answer he found not one he was entirely proud of, but he saw no reason to lie to her. As he had said, he might not like her profession, and her by association with it, but their mutual connections had become complicated enough that he could no longer dismiss her either.

He watched her frown and think about what he had said, curious as to why it mattered, but even more interested in how she would react to it. Isuma burped and waddled over to him to begin washing her talons and he stretched his wings in a flutter of white feathers before settling next to her, a bright blue eye fixed on the black wolf. He knew her pride, and he knew her ferocity in a fight, but this reluctance and uncertainty were new to him and he wasn't sure he wanted to see it. It was so much easier to hate a stranger who lived up to the worst of their reputation...

The question took a moment to sink in as he blinked in honest confusion. Realization dawned a second later, and he croaked a sound that was almost a laugh, though his raven's voice made it harsher than any human amusement could sound. If I had threatened Kalt, and done so with unsheathed claws to back it up - if I were strong enough to make that threat a serious one - would you be so quick to forgive me, regardless of the reason why I did it? Not the best example; here he was known as a scholar, not a warrior. She had bested him before, and so threats from him were not exactly of the same caliber as a threat from a trained assassin, but the situation was not so different, and she was bright enough to see the trail he was laying. One man had already died. My mate wanted everyone to wait and learn more about the Spire before an attempt was made to breach it. He respected Ronin and knew he would not want others to die from some sort of hasty, misplaced vengeance. And yet still Roana and Edrei and yourself saw fit to push and howl and threaten him when he would not let you have your way with his world. Anger still pulsed in the bard's mental voice as he thought of that day half a year gone, when Rory had come to him and Amalia in the Glade and let tears of fear and anger soak a fox's white fur.

In the end, he couldn't stop Wessex and her people from pushing to free the Voice anyways... and still more people died, in spite of our attempts to pull them out. A bitter admission, especially when Jigano and Rory and Amalia had gone down to try and rescue the ones in the basement, only to find it too late for one, and then for Roana to throw herself into the portal rather than retreat.

Ashe remember why you started.    The raven crowed something like a laugh, and he explained. At first, her pelt bristled at the very thought of a threat upon Kalt. She would tear apart anyone that dared if he didn't first. But what did that have to do with her? And then... and then she remembered.    The spire. The standoff between Natural and Outlander in the wake of one of the worst losses Ashe had ever endured. Her grief. Her desperation. Her wrath. And Rory. That was... Jigano's mate? All at once, she understood why the loreseeker hated her so much.    The wolf huffed and nodded her head, licking her jaws as her claws extended into the blood-soaked soil. Truth be told, she had forgotten about Rory. A blip in her lifetime of violence and pain. She had threatened him, and she had moved on. There had been bigger things to worry about than a farm boy who stood in her way.  She hadn't thought... hadn't realized...    I hadn't thought it would hold much merit, she admit, her voice troubled. I don't... The wolf sighed, glancing up at the sky. I don't want to kill your mate. I... probably wouldn't have, even then. The fuck was she doing, admitting an empty threat? She was silent a moment before looking back at Jigano, her next words genuine, but hard to get out all the same. Ronin is my brother. One of the few people in this or any world that I love. Then the demon, and he... She saw a blinding flash, felt the impact, saw him rising to the stars. Her heart raced, and she charged on. Getting into the Spire.. I didn't care about this world. About what was right. I only cared about getting the barrier down so that I could retrieve him from the Gods. It was a selfish need.    She looked back at Jigano, golden eyes solemn. Grief does not leave much room for rationality. I'm sorry. She didn't say it expecting forgiveness. When had she ever expected forgiveness from... anyone? She had stopped looking for it as a child, knowing there was no forgiveness to be had for a monster like her. Know that your mate is safe. I would protect him before I would hurt him.

It was Jigano's turn to bristle, throat hackles puffing out at hearing how little Ashetta's threat had meant to one who had the ability and harvest lives like Rory harvested his wheat. The glare he gave her was a hard one, a rattle in his throat that might have been a growl in another form, but which he cut off as the wolf continued to speak. Back then he had not known she was acting out of grief. Since his talk with Vai he had learned more, but her grief did not excuse her lashing out against others, causing them pain as well - especially when they were not the ones who had caused her own.

But... she did not speak defensively, did not try to excuse what she had done by asking for pity or sympathy. He knew honesty when he heard it, and the unvarnished truth she gave him silenced his growling, forcing him to take it and decide what he would do with the gift. The apology was unlooked for, unwanted, but not without worth. Whether he would trust the promise she made was another question she handed him, and he clacked his beak quietly in consideration of it, watching her as she watched him, blue eyes meeting gold with a fierce concentration.

I am not the one who deserves your apology, he said at last, his mental voice cooling from the heat it had previously contained. He is a good man, and in spite of the steel in him he far prefers to be a gentle one. In truth I do not think he would want to see you again... but he is the one who should hear those words. Not me. Even had he wanted to offer Ashetta forgiveness it was not his place to do so, and so she would not receive it from him. But he did not leave just yet, instead tilting his head to the side and pinning her with a single blue eye.

I would ask a question of you as well, if you are willing to hear it, he said, more formally than she had asked, but with the precise courtesy of someone who was trying not to let his complicated personal feelings color his words.

Ashe remember why you started.    Jigano was a candid person. It was... strange. Ashe knew good people, good hearts, and while she sensed it in the raven, there was a hard edge to it. He said he had ghosts, and she got the impression that he fought very hard to keep a hold of that goodness in the face of them. A better hold than she ever had, certainly. She had been a villain to the people of Northwind. A shadow, her cloak a beacon of death. And then in Northaven, it had somehow gone from survival to protecting people. Helping them.    Speaking with Jigano now, she wondered when she had lost that. When had she started acting the villain again?    It was an uncomfortable realization. When Kalt returned? No. It had been before that. Starting in Northaven, in their last weeks there, she shut down she immersed herself in the monster lurking beneath her skin. After she had devoured the heart of her Master.    The wolf flicked her ear in acknowledgement of his words, telling her just who it was she should be giving her apology to. If he'll see me.. then he will have it. The words felt strange in her mind. She didn't know what to do with the knot in her stomach, realizing that she had impacted someone that way. I've damaged enough, she said quietly, almost to herself. I can at least try to set him at ease.    He presented her with the same request, she had asked of him, and her head tilted briefly, unease rising up her spine. I can do my best to answer, she replied, ears perked forward, waiting, listening.