amos ulysses wilder.

┏ •◦இ•◦ ┓downing his latest drink, nathaniel swallowed, staring out at the people in front of him. wedding should've been joyous occasions, and yet, here everyone was on an adventure in search of the bride and groom. crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned up against the nearest wall. "so, what happens if i don't want to participate in this little witch hunt?" he asked, looking down at the person standing next to him. nathaniel didn't really care. while he'd known victor for a good chunk of time, he hadn't really approved of the marriage. but he hadn't really approved of any marriage. "look, if i promise to go, can you at least make it worth my while?"

AMOS IS SADDLING HIS FINEST PAINTED HORSE, a rare, imported breed from the americas with infinite stamina and finely tuned instincts. she is difficult to spook but loyal, trademarks of a horse with a challenging & rewarding break. when he hears the clink of a glass being emptied by a hungry swallow followed by incisive tones, he knows it is lord radcliffe at his back. there is a slow, easy chuckle, one that seems impossible unless you've spent nights sleeping under the stars. "you don't seem the type to miss out on adventure," he remarks, tightening & securing leather straps. "or did i misread you, my lord?" with an easy launch, he is astride astra, settled & comfortable. amos digs into one of the saddle bags and fishes out a flask. wiggling it slightly so it catches the light, he grins. "of course i can. have i ever let you down?"

location & time: the holy sanctum, after no-show from the unmarried couple.

THE HORSES ARE RESTLESS, stirring and pounding their hooves, exhaling in a chorus of equine frustration. he's stood alongside them for hours, coaxing them back into stillness, but the bride and groom never erupt from the church. as patient a man as he is, amos is decidedly unforgiving when it comes to his charges — and just as he is about to poke his head into the chapel to check on the progress of things, a flood of attendees come pouring out. some annoyed, others distressed, all intent. amos leaves the cluster of carriages he's arranged to investigate, hearing the chatter around him and piecing together the story. while logic tells him it's another case of a match gone awry, there is a knot in his stomach that turns his perceptions toward a darker line of thinking.