Her white coat stood out like a sore thumb among all the green, but it’s not like anyone would attack her. Not when she brought a bounty like this, plus Kalypso would back her up (if she knew what was good for her). The Hound pulled on the red cow’s ear, making the lead female snort and low in annoyance. The herd turned, following Big Red as she ambled lazily behind Trident. “Tch! You know better zhan to mess vith me, ya? Ya.” She chuckled good naturedly as she nipped the red cow, before loping ahead of the herd. “Come on!” She called back to the oxen, listening to their lowing complaints as she led them toward something called… Cutlass Garden? Cut’s Garden?

She wasn’t sure. Kalypso said the cows would do well here, so that’s all that mattered.

“Haw! Haw!” Trident barked at the Auroch herd, slapping her tail against their haunches. They snorted and stamped, but as Big Red simply obeyed so did they follow. The twenty heifers settled around the garden, already nosing at plants and outrightly ignoring some. “Must be bad, ya? Good. Stay here.” The Hound patted their flanks, and then set off.

She didn’t have a job, place, or friends to call her own here. That’s okay. If there’s one lesson Trident took to heart, it’s that loneliness does not beget uselessness. Work is all she needed to function, to stay sane and hearty. So the Hound made her way to the beach, and briefly wished she’d washed up here all those years ago instead of the northern coast. The cold… The bitter, biting cold that almost took her ears and tail. She’d never forget how the chill hid in her marrow, and reoccured in the mornings when she awoke. It was like a frost demon had taken root, but it could have been simple muscle memory. Terror, really, at the idea of losing her limbs and motor function.

The sand shifted beneath her paws as Trident walked along the beach. She curiously moved closer to the water, and let the waves lap at her feet. The water was warm. Her ears twitched and swiveled left. Sea birds. Very loud ones. Fighting overr… Food? Nesting rights? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter either, but- hm? She turned her head, and pointed her ears downward. A few quick steps, and the tall hellion lowered herself to the ground. Listened, and then boop! Little sea turtles fought their way from their buried nests, and struggled to get to the sea. “Ah, so zhis is vhy?” She murmured, lifting her head to watch the seagulls swarm.

They flew in long, slow circles. Screaming. Watching. Waiting. What were they-? Oh.

Idiot.

Her.

She was the only reason why these small turtles stood a chance at survival. Golden eyes glanced down, and she didn’t move. When one fell on its back? Well…

No one would notice if she used her tail to upright the little fella, would they?
And that’s how someone found her: looming over hundreds of little crawling sea turtles, with an army of screaming gulls overhead.

@"Addereon"

Brown paws padded softly along the warm, early-morning sand. The beach looked nearly pink with the colors of the sunrise, the sun warming his pelt and making his journey all the more pleasant. It was a good morning--clear sky, gentle seas, a warm breeze blowing through. All the makings of a productive day. Today he'd decided to go out and get himself a rank--he'd talked it over with some of the longer-standing pack members, and they'd told him that if he was good at crafting, then he should seek out one of the crafters to apprentice. It wasn't the only rank he planned to have, but it was a good source of income from what he'd been told, and it was something to do with his free time.

Aysu had been recommended to him. She was a friendly girl, they said, and she didn't have an artisan yet.

Adder didn't need her to be friendly--he needed her to be good at her job. His eyes slid over to the Captain's ship as he strode past it--him on dry land and it stuck on the sandbar out to sea. It was truly a magnificent sight, especially in the early light of dawn. Devil's Doom, they called it. What he wouldn't give to see what treasures and finery lurked inside.

It wasn't long before he came upon a bungalow he assumed belonged to Aysu--he hadn't seen any others on the beach, anyway. Besides--this one was decorated. Lived in. A proof of Aysu's talents. Adder was impressed, to say the least. This hadn't been a bad decision after all.

"Aysu?" He called, voice unusually gentle. It was early morning; he didn't want to risk irking her and ruining his chances. The ball was in her court; she could turn him down just for being a lion, if she wanted. "My name's Addereon, and I'm sorry to disturb you so early. I'd like to be your artisan, if you'll have me." He pulled the satchel he'd brought with him off--something he had borrowed, though fully intended to give back--and flipped it open to reveal it's contents; a few well-worked rabbit pelts and some various, pretty seashells he'd found on the beach outside his den. I skinned the rabbits myself, and the shells are for you too, if you have use for them." He cringed a little; this was not going how he'd expected.

Then again, Addereon never had been a lion who was good at asking for help.

Aysu had a hard time sleeping some nights, her dreams riddled with nightmares. At first, it was various terrible things happening to her family, but now it was the absence of them. Sometimes they were fleeting figures with no faces and she could see less and less of them every time the bad dreams occurred. In her waking life, as she aged, she forgot them more and more. Their names she memorized, knowing the memory of their names couldn't fade as their faces were. But there were times she wondered if she passed her father if she would even know him anymore. The scrap of black fabric he had given her the day he handed her over to the pirates had long lost his scent. Now as she lay, tired but unable to sleep, she stared at the fabric laying on the tattered grass mat where she made her bed.

Outside the sun was rising, casting it's pink and golden glow into her little home and she couldn't help but grin a little. She had lost her family, and that broke her sometimes.... but she had gained something else. A new, different kind of family. She closed her eyes a little, focusing on nothing in particular. The ocean breeze drifted through the trinkets she had hanging around, eliciting a soft, lovely noise and in some cases, reflecting colored light onto the dark walls inside the hut.

A new sound brought her back to the waking world. Her name. Being called by an unfamiliar voice.

"Aysu?"

The purple girl rolled up onto her belly and yawned. At least whomever it was didn't feel the need to barge on in, cannons blazing first thing in the morning. She rose with a stretched and considered slipping the black fabric over her head, for little other reason than to hide her secret tattoo and the little blue beaded string tied around her right ear. But she let it pass. There was no need for covering these things; she and Cookie were the only ones who knew their meaning. Besides, this individual had come to her early, they would have to deal with her bedhead.

"Yes, yes, I'm here." She replied. Half distracted by her swaying trinkets Aysu took a step outside and nearly bumped into the chest of the lion. Her whole body went rigid as she stared at his chest, letting her bi colored eyes drift up slowly to finally rest on his face. Holy. Shit. She's heard of big cats before, seen some from afar, but never this close. Quickly she took a step back, giving him some space.

"My name's Addereon, and I'm sorry to disturb you so early. I'd like to be your artisan, if you'll have me. I skinned the rabbits myself, and the shells are for you too, if you have use for them."

Aysu side eyed the lion, sizing him up a bit, then she took a look at what he had to offer. The rabbit skins were nice, smooth and clean. Not as pliable as she preferred hers to be, but certainly a good start. It wouldn't take much for him to make the pelts a little softer. As for the shells, she found herself grinning widely at those. Moving to the beach had given her more shells than she knew what to do with and yet she still hoarded them. The purple lady simply couldn't get enough.

Bi colored eyes inspected every shell before she gave an approving nod to Addereon. "Very well then. I see you're off to a good start here. Thank you for these. The Captain will be pleased." She said, moving them inside her hut and returning the bag to him. Her eyes drifted off for a moment toward the massive ship where the Captain stayed, then back to the lion. "I'd like to learn a bit more about you. Let's gather some supplies and you can tell me a little about yourself."

Aysu slipped back into the hut, returning a moment later with a small satchel around her neck, along with her head scarf, and glistening obsidian dagger. Slowly she would walk toward the ocean. The sands near the water always held some interesting items for crafting. There they would begin.

"Yes, yes, I'm here."

Oh, she was much cuter than he had imagined. That was something he would have to address later though, after she had agreed to help him, if she did. He didn't want to scare her off; he was aware that he was often a bit too much for most others. His size and his abrasive personality generally made others avoid him. Not that he minded; he preferred to live a mostly solitary life, save for when he was needed for their Captain. He didn't say anything as she nearly bumped into him, lips twisting just a bit in amusement at the action as she took her step back.

He didn't hold his breath as she examined his gifts--but it was a near thing. "Very well then. I see you're off to a good start here. Thank you for these. The Captain will be pleased." He nodded, happy to hear it though he tried to keep the emotions from his face. He was excited to finally be considered useful, excited at the prospect of actually having a rank title other than sailor. For so long he felt restless; maybe now he could get some peace.

"I'd like to learn a bit more about you. Let's gather some supplies and you can tell me a little about yourself."

"Of course," He nodded, slipping the borrowed bag over his head once more so it rested against his chest. He waited as she went back into her hut to clothe herself, looking at her dagger with eyes sparkling with interest. "What is that?" He asked, not unkindly, gesturing to the dagger. He'd never seen weapons before; where he came from they didn't need them. "And what would you like to know about me?" Addereon asked as the gently waves rolled over their feet, his claws coming out to dig into the sand, enjoying the feel of it.

There truthfully wasn't all that much to tell; he didn't have an incredibly eventful past, and he hadn't done much since then besides coming to Tortuga. He'd answer her questions truthfully, though; he didn't have many secrets, either.

The seasons are changing again. How invigorating, to see the shift between winter and spring, the blistering heat of summer that reminds him of home, the crisp bite of autumn. Time seemed to hold still in the valley. It was hot, and the sun baked their stories into the stone. Beyond the maze, nobody’s story left much of an imprint. The rain washed the etchings away and ice turned carvings to rubble. There was a fresh start around every corner and that was refreshing.

Still, Manticore knows the importance of history. He returns to where it started. No, not to Oukoku-Kai. That may be where he took his first steps, but this new chapter in his destiny started not in a forest backlit by flames but instead beside a corpse. He traces the threads and he returns. He remembered, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

In the dying sunlight of a—what season was it now? He’s lost track—day, he settles behind the one forgotten by all but him. The bones lay bleached—on them grows lichen and moss, opportunistic life creeping in on a titan and hoping to pull life and marrow from within this shell, but. Ah, but. They, too, would soon be choked out by the leviathan. Oh, how it had grown. Its thorns wrapped itself around the trees and the roses reached desperately for the sun. He should have known. He knew a sign when he saw it.

He lowers his head and murmurs a prayer. Not to this carcass of cracking bones, nor to the roses that grew vivaciously from the calcium it had left to give. No. He sings a psalm to Chinensis. The leviathan of red roses listens, and soon the sun sets and leaves them to their business. You could have done so much more, he had chastised the titan when it was young. Now it grew, and the life around it withered and quaked in its presence. He sees he still has something to learn. He is but a boy in this world, he knows that now. He has learned much yet there is always more to learn.

“I ask for your forgiveness, he intones, his eyes not on the serpentine wind of thorny vines but on the leaf litter of the forest floor. “I did not understand why you left. Now I do.” He seeks truth, like his Father before him sought something beyond the heavy, aching burn of the valley. He had been rash before, but forbidden fruit tasted so sweet on his tongue—Gods forgive him, his lust for knowledge never changed.

This beast before him, construct of bone and stem, was not his Father. But if it was not his spirit he did not know what was. We cling to idols even now. It’s been so long.

He does not ask for anything else. He knew he asked much already, but if those like him could not be forgiven their flights of fancy then he knew not what would become of lesser men. He was a child of gods—if he could not question, WHO COULD?

No one, he knows, and he mutters a prayer before falling to silence. He sits for a long time. The time passes and he lets it. He knows this thing, this horrific sign in the woods—it would invigorate him, and like foolish men seeking the Fountain of Youth he waits, lapping at the edges of the water. Deliver him, and unto his eyes carve the proper path. A holy war brewed, and he would read between the lines of their sacred doctrines if it meant he did what was right.

(Being right meant he would win, of course.)

In the darkness, something changes. He’s not sure what, but his body is, fur prickling as his skin ripples with goosebumps. He lifts his eyes to the leviathan backlit by the soft silver light of the moon. Oh, how black the roses turned at eventide. His breath catches and he finds himself compelled to rise. To turn around. There is something there, drawing him onward, a string tied tightly around his heart—and so he follows it into the darkness.

In the pitch, he whispers—lesser beings would feel foolish, but he does not—“Father?”

"We're.. we're almost.. there.." a rasp escapes, unfamiliar enough it startled herself. Shredded black ears lay back against a cream hooded head, one that had fresh new scars to tell stories where words fell short.

The bundle before her, wrapped with care and stained in blood, seemed to make noise- it whispered, it hummed, it called to the envy-eyed masochist who uttered a harsh 'shh' before turning to her companions. They heard it, too, didn't they? Absinthe didn't look at them for validation, there was no shimmer of hope, just a look of complete exhaustion.

"I hope they're happy to see you," she licks over her jaws, tasting blood- mine? theirs?- her head shakes away the bats and clears her belfry. "I hope they forgive you," she smiles. Absinthe found herself smiling more these last few days, if only to offer some hopeless form of comfort to Gaius and their shrouded guest.

It was a relief to know the Warrior could see her Ghost as well, that perhaps she wasn't just crazy, that some things in this world were still real. That the nights before- a red sky and the missing moon- guided not just her way home, but her thoughts to a darker, neglected region of her lost mind.

Absinthe took one last look at her savior and the weary traveler, picked up the bundle before her, and carried on. The stop was unnecessary. It was nerves sinking in like thorns and vines like guilt holding her back. It was the caves of Saboro and her mother's ragged, rotten breath that kept her going forward. Reminders.

Dreams come true.

There was no going back, no waking up. This is real. This is all real.

---

They arrive at an impasse. A literal impasse.

The wall, a monument meant to keep out, gives way to rampant anxiety and fear. The package drops, it rolls forward, stopped by a filthy paw and dragged back like a precious treasure. "They've.. they're.. what.." the panic is apparent in the face of a girl with slashed scars across her face. There is real fear in those eyes again, but there are no jaws around her throat this time.

"Gaius, how do we.. do we keep.." but she can't keep depending on him, hoping he can lead her now that she's found her way. No, Absinthe takes things into her own shaking hands, snatches the package and begins to run along the once-crumbled wall of her unfamiliar kingdom.

They should follow, shouldn't they? Are they? She doesn't look behind her, she just keeps going, and going, and going.. until finally there is a break, there is an opening, but something stops her from going through.

She is a stranger to these lands- Absinthe had barely made herself known, and what little interaction she had was unpleasant. Who on earth would let her through? Whoever manned the this wall- her last obstacle- was in for a wild ride, because she drops her prize and throws back her head.

A howl comes, haunting as expected from the withered, crestfallen girl. Whoever comes to answer her knocking would be received gruffly with a snort. She remembered vaguely who she was on the other side of this wall.

"I need to speak with the King and.. if possible.. the Queen, if she's.." Absinthe swallows her fear and bares fangs, "If she's with us still.” When Gaius appeared, if the cloaked traveler followed, she would clear her throat once more and hold her head high in confidence she'd lost many moons ago. "Tell them Gaius and.. Absinthe.. have returned, and that we have a guest," her eyes fall to the bundle between her legs and she bristles.

"and I have..-" A GIFT, ABSINTHE? IT'S ONLY A GIFT TO YOU, YOU FOOL- "I have.." A TROPHY? NO ONE BUT YOU WOULD POLISH IT- "Just send someone to get them," her tone stern. She no longer felt like a scared, pitiful little girl. Even the borders of Gemini ignited something she thought was reduced to ash.

prp with pompilius, please disregard the lack of embellishment in this post. i'm still figuring out postscripts.