In Dire Straits - It's that Red/Green Dichotomy [Orcrist]

Several poorly thought out escapades and a war sat between the day she left the nest and today. But not much else had changed, really, had it? She'd met her other siblings, picked a field to play in (or work in, as Isaiah put it) and otherwise enjoyed the weather and company that the great Alteron had to offer. But, she supposed, the time had come to really pay her dues to the man who had taken her in.

Adulthood and a greater understanding of Alteronian custom had afforded her a better perspective of the privilege his station had given her. A lowly serf she might have been, but now she was a member of a great court. Status didn't inspire her, really, but it changed how she was treated. Well, not by some. But she saw the real serfs in Alteron, and she knew what she had just barely missed out on. Being wise enough to be grateful, she had taken it upon herself to show her gratitude in the way Orcrist would appreciate best: with gifts.

Padding towards his densite, she realized she didn't feel nostalgic. Wasn't she supposed to? This was where she'd been reared! She looked quizzically at the rocks and trees she knew well, and felt nothing. She smelled the scents of her younger siblings, and flicked an ear. None of this had ever belonged to her, she supposed. "Hey daddy Oooooorc!" she called, tail wagging all the same. Places were not happiness. Usefulness was worthiness, and worthiness was happiness. "I brought you something!" She bent down, allowing the leather sling around her neck to fall to the ground. Out tumbled bones: bones from rodents, from birds, from mustelids and even a fox or two, all her most recent kills, picked clean and white by the inhabitants of her favorite anthill.

There was one other thing that had changed. The little touches of red fur had expanded, becoming splotches on her pelt. If not for the orange tinge, they might have looked like fresh blood. Enough time had passed for someone who's known her to notice-- the red in her pelt was spreading.

He grew tired after a long while, not really knowing why he had chose the job he did, but he supposed it got him far in the long run. Orcrist made a few rounds by the borders, growing bored rather quickly since nothing happened in all that time, and decided to go back home. At least there he could relax and possibly take a nap if he was not disturbed by his wife or children, they most often did when he was about to rest for a while, but perhaps today he would be lucky.

The Commandant walked along the trails carved into the territory, winding his way back to his den when he heard a calling, one familiar yet one he did not hear often. He was surprised to see Crisis calling for him, the children he adopted hardly sought him other than to glance his way at an important circle. Even so, he smiled warmly and was glad to see Green Thing nonetheless even if he was internally wishing he could have some peace and quiet.

"Right 'ere." he calls, approaching to stand before her. Orcrist was surprised when she dumped a bunch of bones out, a stash she had been saving up it seemed from carcasses she previously ate. A paw rolled over the fox skulls, knowing these would be valuable and could be useful in many ways. The teeth for necklaces, the skull itself as an ornament on walls or even the neck. The rodent and bird bones were more of the piercing kind through nose or ear. He was even impressed by the way they had been cleaned, picked away by insects for a while until they bleached white by the dull sun.

The Commandant smiled wider and nodded. "A good offerin', Crisis. Is there a reason?" Even his own biological children didn't offer much in the way of bones to make trade. They themselves could be traded off instead he supposed, but he would not let go so easily. "Tell me what's on y'mind."

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