𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩/ѕтαη∂ιηg

Dust was brushed from her hair, fingers gently running through the strands. “Who would be? Everything so...bright,” she offered up in response, deadpan in her delivery. Gently kicking aside some of the rubble, Helena moved towards her father, head at the slightest of angles. “Have you spoken to him since his rise back to power?”

“How do you know you haven’t already? Not all corpses remember their deaths when returned right away.” An obvious tease, despite any lack of vocal or expressive clues to that fact. Had that been the case, she likely would’ve informed the other, if only in an attempt to slow him down a beat. Always on the run when she’d prefer to walk, so to speak. At the turn in conversation towards her pets, even Helena had to smile. An odd sight for anyone unfamiliar with the young woman. “I’ll be sure to remind them that you and your armies are off limits.” Not that it would ensure they listened entirely. “I’ll give you a charm to wear, just in case.”

The mental note is made, vial tucked into her pocket with intentions of providing the scent it held to her pets later. The draconic creatures were just about the only beings that held any piece of her heart. A fact obvious to any who had seen her interact with the beasts. A low hum of thought escaped as she followed the witch towards the counter, slipping behind it only to fall into the chair she’d previously been in. “Just spell the shelves. A look but not touch sort of enchantment should suffice,” Helena suggested, though her tone lacked much concern. “Not really. Working to track down that damned Cauldron, but it’s blocked from location charms.”

She’s motionless, not even bothering to roll her eyes at the annoyance that was Laney White. “I don’t care,” she stated, voice void of emotion as she watches from her perch. True pity had never been felt by the lich princess until meeting the poor victim of Julian’s plot for a throne. A victim who had been cast aside since Uma’s takeover. “Nobody cares. Least of all Julian.” The last added for her own cruel delight.

The moment arms are around her, Rosalie is clinging to her aunt almost as though she were a small child again. It was as though the reality of what they were facing was finally rushing to the surface, and letting go would let it crash over her. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” Though she pulls back to face the other, the connection remains in tact. “Near daily. It helps calm my mind. But the wolf is on edge constantly these days, and if I’m honest...I’m aching to just let it out,” she confessed.

“Why do our conversations always lead to the conclusion that one day I’ll be forced to revive you from death?” Teasing or serious sentiment, her tone would reveal nothing to indicate either stance. There was a good chance, however, that it was both. It was true, what he’d said. The two of them were so different, and in such key ways that it often left her questioning what had drawn them towards each other in the first place. It was enough to tug her lips into the barest of smiles. “Call me when there are corpses. I do so love the stench of death.” A fact many found off putting, regardless of their own desire for bloodshed. “When the battles begin, will you be sure to include my babies?” She referred to gwythaints, the only things she’d ever outwardly shown any true affection. “They’re deserving of a good feast.”

“You’ll never improve if you never practice.” It seemed necessary to point out, though the words were offered up with a smile as she indicated a small collection of spare bows and quivers just a few feet off. Rosalie would never deny lessons to one who asked, believing it to be her duty in these times to help prepare those of the rebellion for battle. As for the question, she supposed it was only fair to provide an answer as the other had. “I need to be ready in case of war.” A harsh reality, but realism was important given the world they lived in these days. “Though I’d be lying if it wasn’t also meant to help clear my head.”

The other’s smile is enough warning for Helena to take a step back. It was always best not to get in the way of one’s magic, lest there be any flashback of misfire. It wasn’t that she had a doubt in Katherine’s ability, as she was easily one oof the more talented witches she knew. More habit than anything else. There’s the barest hint of disappointment in her eyes as it sets in that the victim is to be allowed to leave, though it’s gone like a ghost before anyone could take notice. Gaze tracks the scarlet liquid to the floor, footsteps carrying her to the spot. “I’ll send the gwythaints after him this evening,” she muttered, telekinetically transferring what little blood she could into a small vial. “Poor dears have been rather hungry lately.

“Finding solace in a war zone?” The question is offered quietly, an answer buried within it if the other chose to look more closely. Lowering to the ground, her own hand found its way to the cat, comfort in that connection. “The visions are worse here.” A result of the lack of barrier. “And my mothers are nowhere to be found when I need them most.” Not that she could blame the Fates for hiding out what with Hades being back in the picture. He’d used them before, and it wasn’t outlandish to think he would again. Taking precautions was important, though knowing that did little to soften the ache in Moira’s chest. “I don’t know what to do.”

“He’s a sweetheart,” the blonde cooed, smiling at the pig as she gave it a light scratch behind its ear before standing. Noting the mud the other was covered in, Moira was glad for the warning she’d received before they’d left for the farm. Her normal attire full of flowy fabrics never would’ve survived such a mess. “I should hope not. I can’t stand the thought of anyone wanting to harm such sweet beings.”

“Oh, how times have changed,” she murmured, allowing herself a moment of reminiscence. She could almost smile remembering how care free she once was. Almost. Swallowing the feeling, she lowered her bow before turning towards her oldest friend. “In your case, explanation is never required. Besides, I could use your company and a break right about now. I can’t tell anymore if all this extra training is amplifying my stress or calming it.” A truth she’d reveal to few aside from him.

“I don’t need an audience.” Such an odd sentiment coming from a girl formerly known for her displays of prowess in the realm of archery. The takeover had changed a lot for Rosalie, thrusting her into a world of confusion she wasn’t sure she’d ever claw her way back from. “The only way to know if you possess skill is to make an attempt. You're welcome to stay if you’d like a lesson. Otherwise I’d really prefer my solitude.”

The sound of footsteps echo through the empty museum, no attempts at stealth being made. Deemed unnecessary given the new order of things in Auradon. A thought that brought forth a wicked grin. One that only grew with the hint of a glimmer out of the corner of her eye. “Well, well, well...what do we have here,” the thief purred out, digging through a bit of debris only to be rewarded with her prize. Bejeweled tiara in hand, she turned only to discover she had company. Without missing a beat, the piece was place atop her own head. “Be honest, how do I look?”

All irritation melts away the moment that voice hits her, a smile making itself known as she turns towards the other. “Aunt Marian.” Name said with relief, something felt every time she sees someone she cares for unharmed. It wasn’t a guarantee these days. “I haven’t seen you in days, I was beginning to fear the worst.”