this ride is a journey

The stillness that came after battle often unnerved Freydis. Once the fighting was over, once everyone was healed, once the adrenaline waned for most, she often found herself with an overflow of energy and anxiety she rarely knew how to manage productively. It was worse this evening, the weight of having pulled Soren into a matter that nearly cost him his life weighing heavily on her mind. Despite the exhaustion the most harrowing battle of her life had brought with it, there was a buzzing along the line of her spin that refused to allow her to sleep, so she walked. 

He lets her lead him mostly on account of how it felt like all of the weight of what had transpired had really just sunk in. It's everything at once and he has to exhale slowly. He opens his mouth to speak only to close it promptly, because he didn't know where to start. "The general state of affairs? That I ran off to get myself killed?" He offers weakly, taking a second to wipe at his good eye with the back of his hand. Another victory but at what cost? Etienne can't even begin to think about going back to Caer Glass without Riandur, can't imagine walking past the door to the room the commander occupied and seeing it empty. "I knew it had to be one of us, I didn't expect...." His teeth bite at his lower lip and he offers a shake of his head, has to take a moment to breathe again. They all knew what would happen when they'd set out, that there was a chance one of them wouldn't make it home. Somehow that didn't make it hurt any less. "Is it foolish to think I thought it'd get easier?" Etienne looked up from their boots to her face, feeling small in the moment. This was someone who had been fighting her entire life, who continued to fight, who had lost far more than he ever could. Did it ever stop?

There's just something so endearing about how Julian seems to brighten, it reminds him of Goose. Maybe that's why the direwolf seemed attached to the blonde. Though Etienne didn't think his companion would ever voice such a thing between the three of them. "I um, I don't think I can shift alone." Etienne points out, chewing at the inside of his cheek, it's the first time he's put it out in the open. "So I'll be here." And thankfully amongst other wolves and he hadn't quite....Gotten to do that part yet. While he's not a part of the Feronia, he knows outsiders are welcome as long as they contribute, he could do that. "I've never actually ran with other wolves." At his feet, Goose chuffs, his tail thumping once on the ground, clearly offended. "Except for Goose."

Though Freydis was not seriously injured and she understood what Etienne was doing, she allowed him his moment of seeing for himself. Each of them on the ship was a little battered and bruised from being tossed around and used cruelly in accordance with the Kossith’s whims. But she had survived far, far worse. She scratched his muzzle despite the aching of her hands and turned her back to him when he moved away to shift back into his human form, more than amenable to affording him his privacy. 

"No, no we aren't." It dawns on him truly in that moment that they're in the middle of who the hell knew where. If everything hadn't hurt, if he didn't feel sore all the way down to his bones, he'd probably start hyperventilating about just that. Etienne has half a mind to protest that Freydis needed rest just to distract himself but he opens his mouth to speak only to close it and swallow thickly. Inhale four seconds, exhale six. Instead he offers the blonde a nod of his head in affirmation. Not just to agree that they weren't out of it yet, but that they were once again faced with another thing to survive.

starter for @etienneulven.

It's more than a little comforting to once again be in the company of wolves after the- He wasn't going to think about it. Shifting, the full moon, the idea of bones breaking and reforming, jaws snapping. At their feet, Goose puts his snout on Etienne's boot, golden eyes looking up at him as his ears flick back. He reaches down to scratch behind the wolf's ears before he looks over to Julian, his lips pursed. "If Riandur wants me to." He's not too sure of anything at this point, but he knows that he definitely has some personal matters to take care of before he can rush in to help anyone. "Think I need to spend a couple of full moons here." He looks to the blonde with uncertainty, his teeth chewing at the inside of his cheek as he tries to think of how to broach the subject of shifting with the other wolf.

Freydis remained close to Etienne as he assessed the surrounding area for further threats. Fighting side by side with werewolves was not new to her–she had done so regularly in Aventia, but she often found herself surprised by the sheer size of them. They were deadly, which made them desirable allies. Etienne was loyal on top of all of this. She assessed the immediate threat while Etienne kept his senses alert for what they might encounter up ahead, and together they cut down no less than half a dozen Kossith, fiercely defending other captives as they regained their bearings once freed, or liberated others if they possessed the capability to do so.

He doesn't feel the fatigue, all the aches and pains, until they stop moving. He's sniffing at Freydis immediately, trying to see if she's alright after they fought their way through. It's all quieter now and there's satisfaction in knowing that it's because the Kossith had been defeated. Etienne's nose nudged at her hand where she patted at his muzzle and the noise he let out was something akin to affectionate embarrassment, if such a thing existed. Turning away from her to slink off into the corner and near a fallen body. Shifting back is difficult, makes him hyper aware of any wound he's acquired as they tore through the crowd. He'd be fine after a dip in the water, but he wasn't too keen to just jump in. No cut is too deep to keep him from moving. Moving and shifting and stealing the pants of a dead man before he's making his way to Freydis on two legs instead of four. It's disorienting but he rolls his shoulders back to stretch only to wince. "I'm okay." He breathes, nodding to affirm the statement as it feels like gravity is actively increasing on him. "What about you?" There's an edge of concern despite the fact that he'd been with her the whole time. They'd gone out together before, he'd seen her in battle, and yet this had been different and he's far too tired to bother hiding the faint blush that rises to his cheeks at the thought that she of all people had thought he'd been brave.

The last weeks, or had it been months, had been harrowing. So many had been forced to the farthest limits of their magic, their various forms, whatever it was they housed within them. Freydis still cowered in Chalraith’s shadow, but something within her felt a glimmer of hope at seeing Etienne in his wolf form. It was comforting to know that some were bold enough to slip back into versions of themselves that had been used as part of this prison. It steeled her resolve to fight for him, amongst the many others on the ship she had come to love and admire. 

@etienneulven location: Hartbound, Eterna notes: retirement looks good on him

The sound of the tattoo machine was soothing, something to hyperfocus and let the world fall away. Since he'd been back, he'd shelled out a decent amount of gold on a small cabin in the Wildlands, received two new ear piercings, and had been back to see Alrik a number of times. It was all a distraction despite Etienne telling himself months ago that he'd stop running from things. Somehow he felt like he was back at square one after his time with the Kossith, he was conflicted about shifting, he felt on edge all of the time, sleep was hard to come by. Being alone was something he couldn't do at the moment and while he couldn't blame Alucard for heading south, his heart ached. Thankfully he didn't have a shortage of companions to bother. "Sorry, I'm fine, just tired." And so it kind of felt right, that while feeling like he was back where he started at the moment, that he wind up in the company of the man who'd kept him company through the caves on the way to Nornwatch. Alrik was pack too, Etienne just hadn't known enough about himself yet to know at the time. The look he gives the witch from the tattoo bench is apologetic, he doesn't mean to mope. "You'd trust me to tattoo people?" The corners of his mouth tug into an amused smile at the idea.

It was a shame that Goose wasn’t there. Freydis would have liked to think the sassy direwolf would have loved an opportunity to shift the tides of their captivity alongside herself and his companion, Etienne. They would have quite a story to tell Goose when they returned to Lysara. She was resolved that they would return to Lysara. The quick wags of Etienne’s tail emboldened Freydis, and she wrapped her arms around his fuzzy neck before letting her head fall against the side of his muzzle for a few moments. “It’s good to see you again, friend,” she said softly, a harsh contrast to their surroundings and their recent days. “Now,” she said, withdrawing from him, “let us make them pay for what they have done.”

The uprising was immediate and unexpected, but somehow everyone knew what was demanded of them. Even as Freydis plucked a Kossith’s blade from the body of the one of the large sul’dams, she did not believe their liberation was at hand. But when she felt the force of her own might and the resistance of the first Kossith she slayed body against the steel she knew what she experienced was real. How long the battle raged on was anyone’s guess–she fell into her role as shield again like a fish took to water. It was second nature, natural to her, and the only difference between how she performed on the dreadnought was that no glimmer of mercy played at the back of her mind. 

Freydis seemed confused when Etienne mentioned the other Legionnaire. He was a strigoi or a dhampir–Freydis wasn’t sure, she had not met him in much of a formal manner, but she’d noticed the color of eyes and the way he carried himself in a few passing occasions. Then, she seemed to shift into a sense of understanding. “The wolf bond?” she asked, her brows furrowed as she felt it was just as likely she was right as it was that she was wrong. She could feel the tremors and tensing of Etienne’s hand in her own, and a moment later, she released it. “Well, we know trying to tear off our own a’dams doesn’t work. And I can hardly inspect mine myself… You should look at it, see if there are any flaws or weak points.” She met Etienne’s eyes and knew he would not like what she told him. “Do what you have to, and if it causes me pain, I can take it.”

Etienne's brow rose and then realization sunk in and his lips quirked into a frown. He opened his mouth to protest only to close it and exhales before giving her a little nod of his head. Reaching out, he gingerly takes the metal ring around neck and carefully slides his fingers against the metal. It's solid, strong, but he slides his thumb around it, pressing down to see if maybe it was weaker where it must have been soldered together.

Juneau glanced at him for a moment when he didn’t finish his sentence. She already had her answer. Almost a year ago she had asked the Field Commander of the Legion why he didn’t kill her where she stood when he found her pilfering through his things. “Just promise if it comes to it, you won’t rat me out to them,” she responded with a sigh. She suspected the Kossith did not adopt nearly as much of a live-and-let-live attitude as the Legion did so long as a Blighted being had not yet wandered too far down the path of the Dark One’s calling. “Where do you think they’re taking us?” She feared the answer every bit as much as she did the unknown. Juneau glanced up at him and nodded, figuring it was the best advice. But she wondered how far it could truly take them, and when it no longer served them? Then what? 

"How could I rat you out? I don't even know what you are." Despite their circumstances, the corners of his mouth raise just a little and his voice might be hoarse, but his tone is as close to his usual casualty as he can get. Gently, he nudges his elbow to hers, just to give them some sort of point of contact. Etienne had never thought he had a fear of water, but this whole endeavor had proven to be a sensory nightmare and Juneau was ground, somehow. "I don't know. But I know when we get there, we will figure out how to escape them." Until then, they were stuck just watching and listening for any sort of indicator of escape. He sat there shoulder to shoulder in the dark with the blonde he'd once tapped trees clinging to life at the ass end of Iskaldrik. How he wished that was where they were now, at least they'd be on solid ground, at least they weren't in chains. He already knew what Freydis would do. A step further beyond that was 'what would Alucard do' and he couldn't hear the dhampir's voice in his head, hadn't been able to since the metal ring had been slapped around his neck, but he can hear it clear as day. And it's telling him not to do anything reckless. "Actually, I do know what you are." From another corner of the hold, he can hear Torsten's voice, Ormir's, Freydis, Thora, the rest of those taken. Heartbeats are present, some more erratic than others, but they are alive. Etienne knows better than to reach for her hand, but he does allow himself to lean against her just the tiniest bit. It's what Goose would do if he were there with them. Eyes flickering from the crowded hold to the blonde at his side, he doesn't think he's ever seen her look this way. Juneau is small and prickly, quick to bite a hand that got too close and would sometimes snap just to see if the hand would return again, seemingly surprised when his own hand kept coming back. He knew what Juneau thought of him, he'd once had an inkling back when they first met and it'd been cemented the night they'd looked at the stars together. She had asked why he was so kind to her when he knew what she was, but it had felt very much like she had asked why he hung around with her when he was good and she was bad. "You're a wolf, like me." Which in his head, translated to 'you are good, too', kind in her own way, loyal and fierce. There in the dark, with his chest tight with anxiety and everyone's heartbeats pounding in his ears, he drowns it all out with one heartbeat instead for a moment. The one of a friend.

Alrik’s fingers slipped from the collar with a metallic clink, trembling in his lap, his shoulders curling inward. For a long moment, all he did was breathe - sharp, ragged inhales. Alrik tilted his head slightly, enough to catch Etienne in his periphery. His face was pale, lips cracked, but his eyes - the black of obsidian lit with sparks - remained steady. “Not just magic,” he rasped with a voice that had been completely shredded. “It’s like a… a tether. Like something’s reworking the way our magic works - shoving it in the back of your mind and slamming the door shut.” His hand, still shaking, lifted and hovered near the collar but didn’t touch it this time. He blinked hard, sweat trailing down his temple, the throb behind his eye relentless. There was a note to his voice, the tone of a man who’d spent years in front of the fire - tinkering to see how a thing might be changed - this man wished to be impressed, but the lifelong prisoner refused.

Everything could be unmade. The collar, the capture, the Kossith, all could be undone, unmade. They had not gone through what they had at Nornwatch, they had not trekked all over Iskaldrik only to be plucked out of their lives by what he thought were radicals. Etienne remembered being a child and walking through the woods with his father, as he did. More than once they'd come upon something dead and decaying, a carcass left by the local wolves, usually a fallen deer. 'It fed the wolves, it'll feed the birds, and it'll feed the dirt.' His father had once said, referring to such a thing as they walked past. It'd always been something of a comfort in a strange way, that in the end he'd somehow, someway, be a part of the forest he called home. "Everything can be unmade." Etienne looks to Alrik, his chest tight but mind a bit more at ease with a new mantra to focus on. "And the Kossith are going to feed the dirt." Maybe he's delusional, maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe it's that below the surface, he thinks he has never felt such rage in his entire life, but he offers Alrik a little nod of his head before he reaches for the ring around his own neck.