[Maera]

precedes red wine

It was always bittersweet to let go of his season, to watch as Summer cools off and eases into Autumn, but wasn't that appropriate? He always was a hot head, and Andruil never seemed to boil, and took everything he gave with a grain of salt. Perhaps it was because he had taken her tail- beautiful as it was on her, it never lost its lustre when given to his then-wife, Calista.

The only shame he felt over the matter was that he'd buried it along with Cally and their dead children. He had been given heirs, and in the Winter season beyond the fringe, they were taken from him. Not that it was Damascus' fault, but Theros Zephyrus never forgave his cohort for leading the season that doomed his lineage. It was why, from then on, the elder wolf painted a target on Andruil's pretty face. To take from Cheimon what was taken from him.

There was no way to console Zephyrus otherwise. Sol'shira had tried, perhaps not intentionally, by introducing her elderly mother to him. If it hadn't been for his grief, perhaps the woman would have stayed, but even she couldn't break his mind of revenge and left him for a kinder, more gentle wolf.

So here he is, still a mess over his loss, but finding solace in the midday Sun while approaching Andruil, who sat as perfect as a stone beneath an aging tree.

"Andruil-" he hums, his voice rough as gravel and his red eyes brighter as he sees her. "How fitting to find you surrounded by scattered leaves. Your season is beginning, and mine has ended.. and I promised you, once it did, I'd come see you."

She knew why.

She'd known for months he would collect his debt, and she knew he was no friend to being told 'no'. He hoped she missed her tail as much as he did. He hoped he wouldn't have to take more to get his point across.

[Ragnarok.]

The wind from the north shattered the trees, leaving them scattered along the earth in the form of colored leaves. Phthinoporon felt it was her time to step up now, to become the Queen and be there for her people. To help them hunt, to craft items to help them through winter in the forms of baskets for food storage and blankets for the harsh winter to come. They had traveled so far, seeking out newer lands to settle into, but in this strange land, harvest had been hard and the coming cold concerned her. Cheimon was of death, she understood and loved him regardless, but she wished the cold wasn't as relenting. Several of them had been lost because of it.

Teal eyes drifted around in the dimming sunlight, admiring the changing leaves and rain of dead foliage. The day was still golden, and her belly was full — a ray lit her up, warming her in the midst of resting after a long hunt. She felt safe, despite Cheimon not beside her as he should be, but Andruil would soon go back to lay beside him for a while before he woke for the night.

Andruil

Phthinoporon watched as Theros approached, and she nearly grimmaced at the sight of him, his humming like nails on a chalkboard. He tried to flatter her, to dress her in fine silken words but she knew his game. Knew what he had come for, what he demanded of her. Teal eyes bore into red, brow furrowing just slightly. "What do you want, Zephyrus? I had a long day, and would rather spend it alone." Or at least with Damascus.

But she knew deep down, he would not leave until she gave him what he wanted.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦

[Maera]

'What do you want, Zephyrus?'

He laughs, it sounds just like a boom of thunder in the middle of the night, something loud and disruptive to a peaceful dream. It suited him the way stripes suited a criminal, or broken bones suited a fighter.

'I had a long day, and would rather spend it alone.'

"We have the same days, Phthinoporon. My days are long, but they're few and far between. I can feel it in the air, I listened to the Summer Winds this year, I won't live to see my heirs born, but I'll have them all the same," he speaks as if discussing dinner, that his lineage was as insignificant as choosing between elk and boar. Neither appeased him, but it was his choice, and that's what mattered.

"Sol'shira is too delicate for my tastes, our children would be.. beautiful, I'm sure, but can you imagine their disposition? That's why it has to be you, Andruil," his grin is gone, his red eyes focusing on her teal and his teeth bare as he exposes his vulnerabilities. "I'm sure you've discussed it with Damascus, you've had all summer, and he is your other half, as Calista was mine. If you haven't, that's on you, and if you have? He's stupid to leave you all alone, knowing I was due to come knocking soon."

But they had more to discuss than his successor.

"We'll find a place to stay before long. I won't have my children born roving without their father to watch over them, left to you and yours. I can hardly trust you'll keep them alive, but that's where Sol'shira is a blessing, isn't it? She wouldn't let you kill them if you had them, would she?" he presumed to know the Spring deity too well.

In truth, Zephyrus presumed to know too much.

"I'll send out some Fates to scout ahead and find us our own land. We won't survive in a foreign land during Cheimon's season, and I won't sacrifice anymore to being homeless," he had always hated the aspect of nomadic life, but the predessors of the current seasons had loved the freedom. Zephyrus had always found it unsettling not to be settled.

[Ragnarok.]

Just as she thought, he was unrelenting with his talk of him needing an heir. Andruil desperately tried to hide her teeth, wanting to feel his blood drain and stain the Earth, to feed the Gods their due for he was incapable of doing anything himself. All Phthinoporon could do was smile and look pretty, for that was what she was to him — she was to stand still and look beautiful. She supposed she was some sort of Aphrodite to him, but even the Goddess tore the hearts from men's chests. So she laid there, the deity trying to look serene as possible, eyes half lidded toward him in some sort of relaxed display as if he was right.

Because that's what he always thought.

"No," she said with a wistful sigh, "he does not know. This is my business, after all. Oh, if he only knew..." Andruil leaned her head to the side, looking so sad, but in all honesty, she knew Cheimon would poison him when he had his guard down. Theros was too much of an idiot to realize just how vulnerable he really was. Andruil finally stood then, her petite body sizing up the large yet fragile one of Zephyrus. How easy it would be to just jump and snatch his juggular, to rain blood and bathe in his arrogance. His warmth would keep her going until winter, but this wasn't her choice. They did need him, despite his death becoming inevitable. They needed a deity, and only a deity could produce one. Hope for Phthinoporon was wearing thin.

The man's accusations made Andruil laugh. "Me? Kill my children? I'm no fool, Theros, I know we need you and your kin. An heir to rise when you fall." Even the Queen knew her time was due at some point, and she too would need an heir, but she hoped her and Cheimon would produce them, as they were of one and her heart belonged to him.

No one else.

She sighed again, circling him, giving him a taste of what he could have as she rubbed her body against his chest. "I submit, Theros. I will give you your heirs. Send your Fates to find us a home, and I will bear your sons and daughters, to give you harvest and my blessing." Andruil smiled then, seductively to dangle the hook a little closer to his heart, she knew he couldn't resist despite a hatred forming between them.

"Find me within the Heart of the Old Oak Tree in one weeks time under the Harvest Moon. There, your deity Phthinoporon will grant you your heirs."

One week to give me more time.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦

[Maera]

'No, he does not know. This is my business, after all. Oh, if he only knew...' Andruil offers a reply and looks so very defeated. Zephyrus curls back his lips, his toothy grin a match to his newfound glory.

'I submit, Theros. I will give you your heirs. Send your Fates to find us a home, and I will bear your sons and daughters, to give you harvest and my blessing.' The Deity of Autumn concedes, and why wouldn't it? It pales in comparison to the heat of Summer, to its fiery spirit, and yet he feels.. concerned, as if something isn't entirely right.

Despite his suspicions, there is a victory to be celebrated here, and with a cruel, jovial laugh, he furthers her humiliation. "That's a shame, but I think I'll take my joy from seeing his face when he finds out they're not his, hm? If I'm still around to witness it, but ho ho- I imagine I'll be reborn among them, so in some way.. I will see it," as his belief in reincarnation may have always been a solitary way of thinking, he never failed to plug it at any given time.

Zephyrus stretches himself out, looking away from Andruil towards where he came from. 'Find me within the Heart of the Old Oak Tree in one weeks time under the Harvest Moon. There, your deity Phthinoporon will grant you your heirs.'

A time, a place, and he marks it in his mind. "Maybe you ought to bring Sol'shira, I'd like her expertise on the matter to make sure it takes," or rather, to ensure Andruil felt the shame the mate of Cheimon deserved.

With that, he rams his body into the tree, rattling it with his force and chuckling as several leaves fell from the branches, scattering among them- he catches one in his mouth, shakes it with the enthusiasm as a young lad, then spits it out. "Autumn makes everything so weak, Phthinoporon, so brittle and frail. Our children will not be, though, they'll have my blood to keep them strong," and if she had no more to add, he would take his leave. Perhaps he would go among the Fates to search for their new home- he knew better than all what it would take for his heirs to thrive, why leave that in the hands of those beneath him?