Opal Moon and Silver Fur (catalyst and Diana)

Dyami was asking hard questions - one Oralia wasn't sure she had good answers for. Again she fell silent, long enough that it almost seemed she might've fallen asleep again. Finally she shifted and made a frustrated soft noise.

"That is the problem... what can I do," she mumbled. "If they come tomorrow and I were brave, I could yell and scream and tell them to leave... they will cut me down. If pick up a sword, they will cut me down. I could call for all the wolves of the village to help me and maybe then we save the village together, but many would be cut down."

She sighed then, shrugged her shoulders and making another frustrated noise.

"There are so many more in danger beyond this village. It takes an army to fight an army and there is only me left, and then is it right to ask people to fight when I could barely live as a woodling? Who would follow a girl that should have died?"
 
"Who wouldn't?" Dyami threw back. "The girl who lived!" Once more, his eyes returned to Ori. "The woman who lived, despite everything. Chosen by gods, they'd say. Or maybe they'd be more impressed that you did survive. Regardless, people would see you got guts, Ori. You do what you have to, to survive."

He sighed and rubbed his head. "Listen, you can worry about if it's right or wrong all you like. Is it right to be thrown into the woods after being fed a silver spoon all your life? People build armies out of nothing. They stand when they have somethin' to believe in, even knowing they will die. And people will die - that's the heart of war."

Who knew? Maybe the kingdom of Idrisid was gathering its army to come aid the people of Kosogaria. Dyami wouldn't hold his breath, but there was a chance.

"And if divine intervention isn't enough to persuade someone, all you gotta do is tell them how you bested a wild boar."

After a moment, the werewolf made an exasperated noise at himself. "Ahh... sorry. That's me rambling - late night brain 'n' all that. I didn't mean for it to go there. I know you've enough on your plate. I just figure... you might want someone to talk about this stuff with. I don't got the education you do, but... well, that's not really what it's about anyway, is it?"
 
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"A wolf of the wood makes a better advisor than dead generals, that is for certain," she agreed.

Oralia still wasn't sure what the best course of action would be, but hopefully the Rukae wouldn't come tomorrow. Or the day after, or the day after that. With some time to think, maybe the right thing to do would come to her and she would help it along by learning as much as she could in the meantime.

For now, Oralia was so incredibly greatful that she was somewhere safe with someone who seemed to have the patience to let her work through it. Falling to sleep didn't seem so scary anymore.

Oralia scooted closer and buried her face against his arm, just needing that little bit of extra contact to feel secure that he was there.

"The princess is dead. I suppose it's time for the woodling to learn to be a queen," she murmured softly. "Goodnight, Dyami."
 
Dyami chuckled, but any smart retort he might've had died on his tongue the moment Ori nestled closer to him and used his arm like some sort of pillow. Her skin was cool against his.

A dead princess and a born queen. There was nothing more he could say beyond, "Goodnight, Ori." And he didn't move an inch as they lied there together, at least not until he fell asleep.

It was late the next morning when he finally woke up. He hadn't planned on it, but killing four men, shifting, and being on the run for almost three weeks was rather exhausting. And he felt so comfortable and... warm. Why was - oh. Ori was still sleeping beside him. Or rather, practically... literally... in his... arms. Small, and warm, and... with the most peace he'd seen on her face all this time.

Shit. He couldn't be caught like this. He might not be a noble, but she was royalty. A queen! He was smart enough to draw a line.

... So... why did he lay down with her last night?

Carefully, he pulled a dead arm out from under her and rose from the bed. After packing her nicely under all the blankets like it was her own little nest, he headed into the kitchen. He was starving!
 
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Oralia slept so deeply, it was late in the morning when she finally roused. Even then, she was so comfortable in her nest of soft blankets that she didn't want to move and face the world. This was Dyami's home and his village, so for the time being she was safe and sound. But their brief conversation from the previous night was still swimming around in her thoughts.

It was easy to pretend she was dead and that she would live her life as a creature of the woods before when she wasn't sure she would ever make it out of the forest. Now? The weight of responsibility hung on her shoulders. The Rukae wouldn't just disappear no matter how hard she wished it. Nor could she expect someone to come swooping in to rescue her country - not without knowing there was something there to be saved.

As long as Kosogaria still had a queen, the Rukae couldn't claim it. She'd have to make herself known.

What a scary thought!

Oralia finally willed herself to roll out of Dyami's giant bed, the beginnings of a plan slowly forming in her head. For now her priority was to heal, and perhaps build herself a circle of allies. The rest would come in time.

Curiously she peered out of the room to see if Dyami was still nearby, sniffing the air and happy to find there was the wonderful aroma of stew still lingering.
 
Dyami perked at the sound of shifting blankets. Although he tried to be quiet as he heated up the stew, Ori didn't sleep much longer after he already downed a bowl. Hopefully, she rested as much as she needed because he had a feeling the day was going to be a long one...

Seeing her tiny form peek out from the bedroom, hair disheveled and eyes not entirely clear from sleep, the werewolf smiled to himself. "For how tiny you are, ya sure can snore." A totally untrue tease, but he couldn't help it. Before she processed the joke, he quickly held up his finished bowl as he worked on chewing a piece of bread. "Hungry? There's plenty left, so help yourself. That pot of water is freshly hot for tea, too."
 
"I beg your pardon!" she blurted with some offense, before she caught on that he was teasing. Huffing with a purse of her mouth, she unfurled the braid in her hair and combed through it with her fingers as she made her way over to the small kitchenette to pour herself some water for a cup of tea.

"Such a wicked tongue first thing in the morning, Dyami," Oralia accused, this time with a lot less feist. Once her tea was steeping, she filled herself a bowl of the stew and immediately down a few bites with a long sigh. Actually having real meals again was such a blessing! She would never complain about a dish ever again!

"What will we do today?" she asked curiously. "I will need a job first and foremost, I think."
 
It was so easy to tease her.

Satisfied that Ori was keeping up with her appetite - his mother apparently didn't believe that he was, in fact, keeping her fed to the best of his abilities - Dyami finished the last of his own bread and placed a thick slice beside Ori's bowl. He shrugged at her question. "A tour, yeah? You'll have at least a basic sense of the village and can meet some folks. And stop by Kinshra's."

He set his own bowl aside before carefully evaluating her. "We'll get you a coat 'n' boots, too. Save your toes from the constant threat of fallin' off with those flimsy slippers." Snow wasn't on the ground, but it was better to be prepared when winter often sneaked its way in. "Anything else ya need?"
 
"Knowing everything and everyone in the village is a good start," Oralia agreed thoughtfully. She was going to have to learn to many things, not just to survive to help everyone else as well. There was no all of Kosogaria sitting on her shoulders.

Picking up the piece of bread to pull apart and dip into her stew, she leaned to peer down at her slippered feet. How nice a pair of winter boots and a coat was going to be! The dress gifted to her wasn't the light and airy silks she was so used to, but it was cozy and warm. It'd be good to look just like the villagers and not a fragile wisp of a thing.

"Simple clothes and boots will be enough. And a brush for my hair. I can still give you my ring to pay for things? We may need many supplies for the winter!"

"...and a weapon." she added on with a sudden frown. "I should have a weapon of my own."
 
"The ring should be enough, yes, but you can pay for your things, Ori. No need to give it to me as the middleman." Dyami sat on the couch and began putting on his boots, dark curls falling about his shoulders.

A weapon though? He agreed it was good to have one. Tying laces allowed him a moment to think on what might suit her. But maybe they had already found it...

After unlocking the weapons cabinet, Dyami held out his hand with a sheathed dagger, the same one that he'd given her before. He snatched it back from Crazy Eyes and cleaned it while Ori was busy with his mother.

"Have it, if you'd like. We can get ya a belt, or you can hide it - er... under your skirts." He cleared his throat. "But only use it for emergencies," he warned with a stern look, "until you learn the basics. Think ya can handle that?"
 
Oralia masked her surprise. She'd almost thought he wouldn't give her one, especially his own considering she'd lost it the first time. At first she hesitated to take it, but then that determined look of hers was back before she mirrored his stern frown.

"What else would you use a dagger for, if not emergencies. I do not intend to fling it at maidens in a carnival," she insisted, setting the sheathed dagger carefully on her lap so she could finish the rest of her stew in a few quick bites. The bread also disappeared in record time after she sopped the bowl clean of gravy.

"A belt would be best indeed. I cannot imagine any warrior lady has a simple time of throwing up her skirts to try and reach her weapons fast enough. That could not be very practical," she surmised.
 
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"Maybe not, but flashing undergarments might throw an amateur for a loop." Dyami shrugged. "Can't say I've tried it myself though. Which..." He looked her up and down. "You could get a pair. Nobody 'round here will stick up their noses if ya aren't wearing a dress."

She wasn't beholden to that life anymore. There were boundaries, of course, now that he knew who she really was, but... as far as he was concerned, she could do whatever she wanted, be whoever she wanted. Figure out who she was outside of what he assumed were stuffy castle walls.

A short while later, after Dyami tied his hair up and both were ready, the pair left his home and traveled on a stone path into the heart of the village. Almost midday, there was a familiar bustle that relieved some of the heaviness lingering in the man's chest. He wouldn't hold it against anyone if they were too scared to be out and about with the invasion, but it seemed like most resumed their daily activities. It was a sense of normalcy to which Ori could easily be introduced.

Their first stop was the shoemaker's. It was a small shop that smelled overwhelmingly of leather, and a middle-aged woman with hair the color of fire was quick to greet the potential buyers.

"Dyami - good seein' you, lad!" She smiled as she crossed the threshold.

"How've you been, Aurane?"

"Oh, not bad at all. Nothing's changed much so far. I'd like to keep it that way." She patted Dyami's shoulder before looking to the small woman beside him. "Who's this?"

Dyami let Ori introduce herself and briefly explained that she might be staying in the village a while.

"Ah, and I bet you came here for some quality shoes! I've got just the thing for ya, doll. Follow me." She motioned for them to follow. "Could you give me one of yer shoes on you now, doll? It'd help me find the right fit for ya."
 
Ori of Dyami's home, was how she introduced herself. Faltingly, as she had very nearly announced Oralia of Kosogaria, which would have been a very foolish thing to do when one was trying to remain unknown and unfound. She would blame Dyami for that near slip of the tongue, though, as she was riddled with thoughts of pants and different clothing in general. A princess wore gowns, but that was in a castle surrounded by nobility and people of political power. Oralia liked dresses, but long skirts weren't all that practical at all...

"Yes, these," she stammered, not just pulling off one shoe, but both of the worn slippers to present to Aurane. "They have served me well, but not so good for the forest and long travels? I will need shoes that can travel even through mountains."
 
Aurane paused at the sight of Ori's slippers. Despite the filth, her keen eyes knew they'd once been of high quality, especially once she held them in her hands.

"Boots, then?" She looked at Ori with blue eyes before glancing to Dyami, who gave an affirmative nod. She didn't wait any longer to look through what was available. Eventually, she plucked brown leather boots with laces and put them in Ori's arms. "Give these a try."

As Ori tried on her shoes, Dyami watched as Aurane inspected the slippers closer. "Would ya like me to wash and mend these, doll? Can't promise a miracle, but I think I can give ya some more life out of these if you plan to keep them. Or were you planning to trade?"
 
Oralia excitedly took the boots and examined them with a keen eye, before she sat to pull them on and lace them up. They were perfectly snug in all the best ways and when she stood to test them out, they felt secure enough too. With sturdy soles that could handle stomping around on rocks if needed.

At Aurane's question, the girl paused, tapping her chin with her fingers as she gave it some thought.

"To repair would be best, yes? I must use what I have for as long as I can. Oh! But I can still trade? Not with coins, but-" she paused long enough to dig into the pockets of her dress, this time not needed to reach into her bodice to dig out her ring. Once she had it in her grasp, she held it out in her palm.
 
Aurane took the ring with her free hand and held it close to inspect. A wide smile followed soon after. "Oh, this'll do just fine," she said with a satisfied nod. Stuffing the expertly crafted ring into a pocket, she looked back to Ori and the new boots. "Well, would ya look at that?? I made those with kids in mind, but those look perfect on ya! How do they feel? Can't beat the quality, if I do say so myself."

"Kids shoes, so they're a better deal, right?" Dyami bargained. The older woman narrowed her eyes.

"I'll throw in a pair of wool socks."

"Two."

"One, and you go save that haggling for my pa!"

Dyami chuckled. "Fine. He's open today? Ori needs a coat, too."

"'Course he's open. You know he's worse than me, never taking a damn day off in his life." She rolled her eyes and looked to Ori. "Sorry, doll. How's the fit?"
 
"I am not enthusiastic about wearing children's shoes, but they do fit quite well," Oralia agreed with a nod. She'd quietly and curiously watched the pair during their exchange, filing away this new piece of knowledge to practice later. Haggling seemed to be an important skill! Oralia too would find it useful now that she had very little to share and offer of her own.

Also curious too that the woman's father also had a shop. In a small village like this, there must be a dozen family businesses all ran like tiny kingdoms of their own. How interesting that Aurane decided to open a space of her own instead of following in her father's footsteps!
 
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Aurane smiled. "'Course they do. I'm not Linvharis' best shoemaker for nothin'."

Dyami rolled his eyes as he started for the door. "Linvharis' only shoemaker," he corrected. A thick pair of socks was quick to strike him on the head, earning Aurane a growl and an annoyed glare. The redhead matched his glare, but he said nothing more. He only grabbed the socks from the floor and left, knowing Ori was in tow.

"Her father's Aodhain. He moved here with her when she was still a babe," Dyami explained on their way as he handed Ori her socks. "I guess he was good friends with the previous tailor, so he took over the shop once she died. He's not much of a talker."
 
Oralia managed to keep her giggles to herself at their exchange, having quite a bit of courtly training to prevent such outbursts. After all, a Princess couldn't be caught giggled at all the nonsense in court, less some sensitive noble be offended. At least some of her skills as a princess might be of use now that she was loose and lost in the bigger world...

She tucked her socks into the crook of her arm and felt quite proud of her first shopping experience.

"I do not mind ones that talk little," she announced proudly. "Those are ones that are quite good at listening. Proper ones to worry over as well, as they hear all sorts of things no one realizes. ...Are they wolves as well? Is it going to be strange that I'm not a wolf in this village?"
 
She wasn't wrong - quiet ones could be dangerous. But was she parroting princess lessons or did she actually have experience? He couldn't imagine her ever being scolded over something more serious than stealing extra sweets when she thought no one was looking. Or maybe for showing up to lessons in a soiled dress? With muddy feet, satin slippers all but forgotten as they basked in the sun...

No, Dyami didn't believe the woman beside him ever gave much for flies on the wall to report on. But what a suffocating life that could be.

"No, they're not. Not everyone here is a werewolf," Dyami reminded. "Regular ole humans here? Not strange. What will be strange is your story. Since we're speaking of talkers, you should try to be less, uh... proper." He felt the question in her eyes. He sighed.

"I do not mind ones that talk little," he repeated, giving his best Ori impression. "Woodlings don't talk like that. Too formal. You wanna stick to that story, fine, but make some adjustments, yeah? Otherwise people are gonna catch on pretty quick that you're some noble-in-secret."
 
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