Closed Thread Whispers of the Fallen

Heir to the Black Prince

⤟ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⭒ ♕ ⭒ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⤠

Ahryndae moved like a shadow between fences and blooming windowsills, her dusky pelt catching what little sunlight filtered through the overhangs of the twoleg homes. Though the morning was still young, the scent of melting frost clung to the air, chased only in part by the warm breath of spring. She had no destination in mind only a hunger for observation.

For conversation... for novelty.

It was the smell that caught her attention first. Not the mouse...though it was fresh enough to be tempting, but the cat. A tom who staked his claim to a good morning like royalty would to a throne. Ahryndae smiled to herself. She stepped forward with an elegant ease, her paws silent against the soft grass. Her golden eyes gleamed as she regarded him from a polite distance, her tail curling with interest.

"You look as though you've had a 'fine' day, lying there as if the world were made just for your leisure. A sunny...large tom..." She remarked with a touch of velvet in her voice. She inclined her head in greeting, gaze lingering on the mouse beneath his paw."A fine catch, but none so filling for your size."

The world's too big to stay in one place.

⋘ ──── ∙∙•🦊•∙∙ ──── ⋙

The sun had begun to warm the patch of grass the large ginger tom had chosen, its golden light stretching lazily over his broad from as he lounged with the confidence of a cat who knew he earned the rest, shutting his eyes and embracing the warmth. The half-eaten mouse lay under his protective paw, almost forgotten as he basked, his yellow-green eyes now half-lidded in contentment. Then came a voice, smooth, lilting, touched with intrigue, and then, he cracked one eye open.

The she-cat was something out of a dream, night-colored and graceful, like the darkness with the light of the moonlight seeming through the tree limbs. Fox's ears twitched as his gaze sharpened, though it held nothing but warmth. "Well now" he rumbled, sitting up with a stretch that rippled through his thick, striped coat. "If I'd known Whitehart held cats like you, I'd have stopped by much sooner." he cooed with a light hearted lilt before staring at the mouse.

He nudged at it with a pay and gave a playful grin, after all, he had only taken one bite. "Caught this little guy on the edge of the fields before I wandered in. Not much of a meal for a tom my size, I'll give you that, though I like to think it's the quality of the bite that matters, not the bulk." he replied, drawing his tongue over his whiskers at some mouse blood that had been left behind. 

Fox tilted his head, curiously, his voice light but genuinely interested. "You've got the look of a wanderer, if you don't mind me saying so. Or maybe a dream-chaser" he flicked his tail towards the sunny grass beside him, inviting without pressure "Care to join me, lady of the night? I promise I don't bite, unless asked nicely" he gave her a playful wink before taking another bite from the mouse, leaving enough to desire. His eyes glimmered with amusement, but the ease in his tone never wavered, Fox was at home anywhere there was sunlight, company and a good story waiting to be told.

Heir to the Black Prince

⤟ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⭒ ♕ ⭒ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⤠

Ahryndae’s whiskers twitched in faint amusement as Fox stretched, his voice as rich and easy as warm honey dripped over rough bread. Her golden eyes tracked the motion of his broad frame, the way he carried himself with that natural sort of bravado that made lesser toms seem like kits playing make believe. She took his compliment in stride. No flicker of surprise, only a slight tilt of her head, as if to say of course you would feel that way.

"Mm, and yet you’ve only just now found yourself here." She murmured, voice like fine silk drawn through fingers. "A shame, truly. But I suppose even the most provincial souls stumble upon treasure if they walk long enough."

She moved with deliberate grace, stepping lightly onto the sun warmed grass he’d gestured toward, though she didn’t immediately sit. Her gaze flicked to the mouse, then to him again, clearly assessing both. The smile on her lips was faint, enigmatic, but unmistakably entertained.

"Ah, the old 'quality over bulk' argument..." she meowed plainly, turning slightly so her side caught the sun. "Convenient logic, coming from one with more brawn than refinement." The barb was mild, said with the casual superiority of someone used to drawing lines between herself and those she deemed beneath her.

And then...that comment.

Her brows lifted, the smallest trace of a scoff escaping her before it was tamed back into an icy poise. "Bite?" She repeated, as if the very word tasted sour on her tongue. Her tone was cool, amused, and perfectly unconcerned. "What an audacious notion. As if I'd permit a barn-fed stray to lay teeth upon royalty."

Ahryndae finally settled, sitting tall, her posture as proud and poised as a statue carved in obsidian. Her tail curled elegantly over her paws, her tone was lofty. She looked sidelong at him now, just a trace of indulgence curling the edge of her lips. "Your name?"

The world's too big to stay in one place.

⋘ ──── ∙∙•🦊•∙∙ ──── ⋙

Fox's ears twitched as she spoke again, her voice woven together like freshly wound silk and it sent a soft tingle from the base of his spine up into his ears. However, the ginger tabby tom paid no attention to the tingling feeling and began to lick at his paws before taking another bite of the mouse. By the time he had finished his bite, this stranger had begun to speak about long travels and to the remark, he let out a soft laugh.

"Well, I get around, I just never knew a lady like you would regularly dwell around here" he replied, curling his ginger, striped tail around his flank as he finished off him mouse. She spoke as if she was considered royalty, if anything, Fox found amusement in such an attitude, she would barely last a day in the forest with those clan cats with that attitude that was for sure. But thankfully, she was not out there, but much rather, here with him in the moment. "Seems I've discovered a lovely treasure just by laying on the grass" he added with a soft snicker of suppressed laughter.

His lip upturned into a smirk on one side of his muzzle as the stranger mentioned brawn and refinement and his brows raised in an intrigued kind of amusement "Ah, so I've found myself, not just a treasure to behold, but an heiress, a princess even" he added, a purr rising in his throat as he dipped his head in a bow, mostly genuine but the part that wasn't as genuine in his gaze was replaced with an expression of hearty amusement and good fun. "The pleasure is mine, Princess"

Fox then lifted his head, chuckling at her response to his biting remark, but not dragging it further than that. And then, the question of his name brough out another chuckle, a quieter one. "It would be rude of me to deprive such a lovely lady of her own introduction. Please, yourself before me m'lady"

Heir to the Black Prince

⤟ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⭒ ♕ ⭒ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⤠

Ahryndae’s ears tilted back ever so slightly at his continued playfulness, not out of irritation but calculation. Every court needs a hester. Her golden eyes gleamed faintly, like candlelight glimpsed through thick velvet. "You get around." She echoed with a note of mock contemplation, as if sampling the words and finding them quaint. "What a charming euphemism for drifting without purpose."

Still, her tail flicked, a slow, thoughtful gesture as she observed him finish his meal with the careless ease of someone who had nothing to prove. And then he called her Princess - that tone. She turned her gaze toward him fully now, head high, and though her posture never once lost its grace, there was a flash of something sharper in her gaze. Something forged rather than bred.

"Of course..." She meowed, voice smooth as still water, but unmistakably firm. "I am Princess Ahryndae, first born daughter of Princess Aoife and the Black Prince, Prince Cearnaigh, who was begot by Queen Valiant and King Pendragon of Camelot."

She let the words hang in the air between them like perfume, deliberate and slow-burning. "And you, little fox with your easy grin and sun soaked flanks - are a knave without a court. Or perhaps a jester. You aren't without charm." Her gaze narrowed slightly, not unkindly, but like a cat who had found a new toy and hadn’t yet decided if it was worth keeping.

The world's too big to stay in one place.

⋘ ──── ∙∙•🦊•∙∙ ──── ⋙

The large ginger tabby licked a smear of grease from his paw, lime eyes gleaming with amusement as he reclined in the dappled shade like a cat who had just finished, not only a meal, but a performance. Ahryndae's words, her elegance, her title, all of it settled around them like mist, regal and intoxicating.

And Fox? He laughed. Not loudly, not mockingly, but that low, warm kind of chuckle that starts in the chest and rolls easy through the air, like a campfire crackling between friends. "Ah" he said, voice lilting like a tune played for no one in particular "So I was right to call you Princess after all. Though I suppose I undersold it, didn't I?" He shifted slightly, the sun catching the thick ruff of fur at his throat.

"First born daughter of a long noble line, from lands were stories wear crowns and even shadows have names" He dipped his head then, not sarcastically but with a courtly little flourish that would've made a lesser tom look foolish. Fox simply made it look charming "Fox" he offered at last, casually and unceremoniously "Just Fox."

He gave a slow blink, head tilting, lime eyes dancing with something unreadable beneath the surface. "Begot not by queens or kings. I'm afraid, unless you could the wind, the road, and a she-cat with a sharper tongue than most rogues carry with claws" He rose smoothy to his paws, stretching like a lion at rest, tail flicking behind him. "A jester without a court, maybe. But I've found courts often lack laughter. And those who claim to wear crowns..." His grin widened, toothing but not cruel. "Usually don't know how to dance"

He padded a few steps forward, pausing in front of her with the slightest of nods. "Still. I've never met a candlelight princess with such sharp teeth, if any at all" His tone dipped just a little, quiet and sincere under the jest. "It's a pleasure and an honor, Ahryndae of Camelot" then, that smile returned, easy, sun-drenched, and undeniably Fox.

Heir to the Black Prince

⤟ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⭒ ♕ ⭒ ♢ ✦ ♢ ⤠

Ahryndae watched him with the stillness of a statue—beautiful, aloof, but unmistakably aware. Every word he spoke seemed to amuse her, not because it flattered her, but because it danced so close to presumption without quite overstepping. Just Fox, huh?

She tilted her head slowly, the gesture feline and deliberate, as if seeing him for the first time. "So...just Fox." She murmured, the name curling on her tongue like incense smoke. She let out a quiet breath and turned her gaze to the trees beyond them, to the rooftops and wires stretching like spider silk above the neighborhood. The sun had just begun its zenith above them at high noon.

"You say courts lack laughter..." She said, her voice softer now. "And you're not wrong. Laughter tends to hide in the shadows, where the eyes of kings and queens don't reach." Her tail swished thoughtfully. "That is where I dance, Fox. Not in sunlit clearings. Only at night. When the stars blink open and the world forgets to watch."

She rose then, lithe and quiet, like the breath before dusk. She stepped past him, brushing so near her pelt might have caught his had she cared less for precision. Her eyes gleamed over her shoulder, golden and glinting with something half teasing. "There’s a colony of bats in the church steeple, just past the iron fence..." She said lightly. "They leave their roost just after twilight."

She paused. Her next words were velvet wrapped, laced with a challenge. “If you wish to 'dance', meet me by the gargoyle’s perch when the moon rises.” A flick of her tail."Come as you are."And with that, she slipped through the grass like a shadow, not waiting for an answer - because in her world, those of worth always followed.

The world's too big to stay in one place.

⋘ ──── ∙∙•🦊•∙∙ ──── ⋙

Fox's ears twitched, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched Ahryndae vanish like mist between blades of grass. "Just Fox" he echoed under his breath, the words tasting different now, richer, somehow, like they'd be marked by something rare. Fox liked that taste, especially from this alluring stranger.

He stood there for a moment longer, lime eyes turned toward the church steeple in the distance. The idea of bats spiraling out into the moonlight, and her there, perched like a secret waiting to be uncovered, made his chest stir with something warm and curious. "Gargoyle's perch, huh?" he murmured. "You've got a flair for entrances, I'll give you that."

Then he chuckled, low, amused, full of something more than mischief. "Alright shadow-dancer" he said to the wind she'd left behind "I'll play." With a final sweep of his tail and a glance skyward, Fox turned from the clearing. Not a sound marked his steps as he slipping into the bushes behind him, already pard of the shadows, already planning his entrance.