Her feet could not move fast enough. Her legs could not carry her at the pace she wanted them to. Be it maternal instinct or the strange unsettle that gnawed desperately at her conscious when she pondered the well-being of her daughter. Poltergeist took no notice to any passerby she may have unintentionally pushed through, or carriages the canine leapt seamlessly over without a moment to glance back in apology. Her heart pounded angrily against her chest while lungs burned. Paws begging to stop as they slowly began to shift back into a more human shape as the estate finally came into sight. Lavender eyes narrowed as her spine straightened, ignoring the agony of shifting so quickly, and forcing doors open before house staff could pry open the heavy structures. Sweat beading down porcelain, clinging to the mess of raven curls she haphazardly threw back into her usual sloppy bun. “Avarice—” The mother exhaled in a desperate rasp. There were familiar and unfamiliar scents that clung to the walls which caused her skin to crawl in a nervous tug. An investigation for another time, despite the sting of guilt knowing that such incidents should befall her due to her lengthy absence. You’re a terrible mother, Poltergeisssst. A sharp breath hitched her aching lungs following the otherwise absent hiss of the several echoes that claimed to exist but did not. A hard swallow was forced down her throat as she pushed through door after door in this blasted mansion. “S-s-she is in there, m’lady—” ushered one of the maids pointing towards Ira-Gula’s chamber. Poltergeist stopped abruptly, instantly feeling her heart sink to the pit of her stomach as if to already know what waited for her beyond that oak framed door. “Sarah, send out a request for a new escort and guard for hire effective immediately.” Her voice was low enough for the maid to hear, though not loud enough for her daughter to catch wind. She could not begin to consider the thought of her daughter remaining unaccompanied. It wasn’t safe. “And please inform the rest of the staff to begin preparations for a private funeral.” The maid curtsied in compliance and quickly departed leaving Poltergeist facing the door slightly left ajar. From there she could hear the quiet pleas of desperation, disbelief murmur from the pale maiden’s lips. “Ira-Gula please,” Not once had Poltergeist ever heard her daughters voice crack in the way it had just then. “Please wake up—” The air felt heavy The brine of salt tugged at Poltergeists’ tongue with the indication of her daughters shedding tears. The door then groaned as the mother gently pushed it open. “I said I wished to be left alone!” Avarice snapped with bitter regard, not realizing just who it was entering without permission. Poltergeist’s gaze softened with anguish to see the weariness in her daughters face. How her eyes were swollen with what she could only assume hours worth of crying in solitude. The riddling confusion written upon her freckled features as their eyes met. Poltergeist found herself holding her breath, unable to find the words to speak. Lavender sights would only briefly look beyond her daughters frame to see the resting corpse of her daughters former guardian. The stench of war made her stomach curdle with distain, though in hindsight came to no surprise as the veteran had never truly retired from his post even during his time serving the Trahern family. The sheets were stained in red. She could only assume that whatever the birds gossiped, he was returned here to the estate. Poltergeist couldn’t help but wonder what became of others who had succumbed to the vicious trenches of this petty battle. Violence begets violence. She wanted to hiss at the sheer action though knew it would do neither of them any good. It would have been a selfish gesture where her daughter sat at Ira-Gula’s bedside. Her knuckles white as she gripped desperately to the sheets in some false hope the elder would rise with nary a scratch on his aged body. “My little cherry blossom,” Poltergeist murmured softly as she took a step forward before pausing again, trying to get a better read on her daughter. Avarice felt her jaw tighten as she looked to Ira-Gula then back to her mother with a slight tilt of her head, cherry blossom gaze searching her mothers features in hopes she could find some reprieve – an answer she desperately wanted. “Y-you can undo this… can’t you?” A single tear rolled down her flushed freckled cheeks. There was no question in regards to her absence, or why she’d been away for so long as she was never one to pry.  Poltergeists shoulders dropped as her heart only ached hearing the desperation in her daughters voice. While Avarice may not have shown it, or if she even knew how to, there was a bond between she and the elder as he’d been present since infancy. “Momma, please.” The young maiden’s voice cracked. Lavender gaze would slowly return as she inched ever closer to her daughter. She did not hesitate to pull the weeping soul with a mothers embrace, as she knelt to hold her. “I am sorry love,” her own voice cracked in admitted defeat. The turmoil knotting her stomach in the sense that her own child was hurting and the powerless ache knowing she could not take away the very pain endured. Poltergeist held Avarice as she broke down, the cries grew louder as she trembled in her mothers arms. It wasn’t fair – and for what?! What was it that Ira-Gula risked his life for?! Avarice buried her face into her mother as if she were the very infant that had done so once upon a time. “Is this my punishment?” Her voice shook in between sobs. “Is this because of who I am? My existence?” The questions began to spill as if to try and find comprehension behind these events. “Is it because I am an omen?” “Oh, my dear child no.” She could not help but mentally scorn her husband for such insults even if they were so long ago – that there would need to be an understanding made going forward. Words oftentimes were far more harmful than physical action. “Avvie, nothing could have prevented this, if not now then at some other point in time – but it is not your fault love. It never will be your fault.” She felt her jaw tighten as she offered a gently hugging squeeze. “Sometimes… events take place without reason.” She sighed. “It is… truly unfair.” She paused for a moment, listening to the whimpering sniffles of her daughter, pale digits gently combing through colorless locks. Avarice resting her head against her mothers heart, listening to the gentle thrum against her ear. “Avarice, your very existence means so much to me that words cannot place meaning nor definition. Ira-Gula would tell you the same.” She kissed the crown of Avarice’s head with maternal reassurance. “You, my little cherry blossom, are the best gift I could have ever been given.”

Jahi

The pitter patter of foot falls would carol through the all too familiar home. Feline form winding through the doorway  left open to the wilds in the haste and rush of the household. Os's whiskers twitched, ear tilting to and fro as curious beryl eyes flickered over the surroundings. Those within bore an air of stress, of uncertainty that didn't quite settle well with his recollection of the realm. Always before, they were complacent in the very least to see him, but as of yet, no one had even offered him a greeting! A matter to which he chattered his teeth at the nearly empty kitchen, a chirp issued to the maid who often spoiled him with treats.

Still nothing! He would lick his lips, settling upon his haunches as his tail coiled about them, the tip vehemently thrashing against the flooring in exaggeration of his discontent to being almost wholly ignored. He would brush the connection between he and his master, a plausible sense of concern touching the vampiric who would stir within the pitch of his own room so very far away.

Dark lashes would part, settling together once again as he shifted his weight uncomfortably against the softness of the mattress. At first, he assumed his waking to be of that cause, his stare once again shrouding to the reaches of sleep. However, any further inclinations of repose were dashed as the insistent call for attention surfaced once more. The tethers of arcane that bound them would strengthen with the purpose of finding the cause for the feline's discontent. His gaze closed, only to open to somewhere that seemed vaguely familiar. It wasn't until he glimpsed the staircase and the crawling vegetation that slung tenderly to the walls that the realization came that Osmanthus had once more made his way to Lady Avarice's home.

It was the bustle of the staff that began to alarm him faintly. Realization then crashed down upon him, causing his breath to draw through clenched teeth in a pained hiss as he bolted upright within his bedding. With Dunmeath now largely inaccessible, the path winding through the mountain passes and ultimately close to Sanctuary would be forced into being the main trek to and from the battlefield. Was that it? Were they under duress? Had the town been discovered by the fleeing undead?

The connection was severed for a brief moment as a searing pang shot through his temples, causing his heavily bandaged arm to rise and cover his already closed eyes for a long pause. Regaining his senses, he would allow the starch cloth to drag over his countenance, his legs swinging over the edge of the bed to stand. Sinew felt stiff, still heavy the dregs of exhaustion and the drawn by the vicious effects of the venom. The whole of his afflicted limb was wrapped tightly within the bindings of cloth in effort to quell swelling and mask the dark veins still showing the visages of the toxin's effects. He wasn't sure how long he had rested, but it didn't feel nearly long enough.

Another bout of insistence filtered from the feline, a wave of growing disdain that he seldom experienced. A sigh fled his lips as he grasped the magic ring once again from his finger, pulling it free of the digit and summoning a portal not within the home, but close by. His shoulders would press against the rough hewn bark of a nearby tree where he would linger. It scratched uncomfortably against his skin, against the wound bandages that almost felt like they were all that held him together. A low hum left him, a steadying breath before he would once again share the surroundings of his familiar.

The cat would abandon his post, feeling more reassured with the close proximity Theodred maintained. One he briefly longed to extend a greater distance at the sight of sanguine warmth that traced the surroundings here and there. Up the stairs the maine would prance, graceful, ultimately familiar with the home. His steps would pause outside a room, his nails digging softly at the floorboards as he kneaded gently. Within were three: only one familiar. The bed was cloaked in ichor, its occupant unmoving and mostly obscured from such a low angle. The other held the form of Avarice tightly, the young lady weeping woefully against her shoulder. The words were largely distorted, uncertain if it was his own senses faltering or simply the feline's own attentiveness.

He edged closer to the duo, and his uncertainty and stress became even more abundantly apparent as he marched to and fro before coming closer. His paws were gentle as he placed them upon Avarice's leg, whiskers whispering tentatively as he sniffed at her, offering another chatter of his teeth. Though he dared not go closer to the ruined bedding. Both from his own opposition to bloodshed and some twisted sense of mercy for his master. Finally, he would wind about her ankles, meowing gently to her.

It came first in the form of a letter, arrived to her room where she sat  whilst her hair had been tended to by the head maid and only moments – maybe an hour had passed before there came the knocking on the manor doors. Without hesitation did she briskly break away from the gentle combing of ivory locks, the mess of curls only partially tied back. Confusion went unnoticed at the maids beckon as clumsy limbs anxiously sprinted towards her guardians room where his broken body arrived. Avarice was met with what once was vibrant eyes of ice that had now long since dulled, a broken body awaiting the clutches of death to steal his last breath. There was a wordless reunion after pushing past the employees that tended her home. A quiet demand uttered form her lips where knees had then buckled before his bedside. Gingerly she took hold of his bruised hand struggling to comprehend the events unfolding – the sheer disbelief that plagued her to the core. No, no this couldn’t have been happening. She brought his hand to rest against the side of her freckled face, bloodied thumb weakly sweeping across the apple of her cheek seeking to wipe away the tear that threatened to spill instead smearing the muck and blood that tarnished his skin. A tired, apologetic smile etched across his aged face, the color long departed as the reapers claws slowly came with a mindful tug, respectful to allow a moment to spend his final moments. “…S’alright, lass.” His graveled voice sounded cracked and brittle. “Take care, yeah?” Avarice felt his hand grow limp, a final breath leaving his lungs and the gleam of life leaving his eyes. Cherry blossom gaze searched his lifeless ones as shoulders fell as she remained unmoved desperately trying to analyze and pull apart every passing second that went as swiftly as it came. One of the maids waited on bated breath, hesitation and uncomfortable uncertainty bid her forward to carefully pull the sheets over the former guardian, gently pressing eyelids to close. Avarice didn’t budge, though tears began to shed in her silence. Instead, she had bid everyone to leave the room, tension suffocating the atmosphere. Two hours passing before she heard the creaking groan of the door ajar when her words quipped with distraught anguish though surprise to see the silhouette of her mothers frame, her lavender gaze swollen with a mothers guilt. The cherry blossom maiden nearly melted in her mothers embrace where Poltergeist held tight, Avarice buried her face in her mother shoulder, feeling the well of these foreign emotions topple over like a crashing of waves despite her mother genuine efforts of consolation. Though even she knew this would leave a far deeper scar that she knew she could never repair no matter how desperately she tried. Their temples met following words of reassurance, a pale thumb lifting to gently wipe away the smudge marked upon her childs face and the tears that dampened her rosette painted cheeks. Pinks gaze fell away from her mother as she reclined back to her knelt position limbs folding back.  Her little dappled nose was red from the shedding of tears and her eyes puffy. Met first with a tiny paw, Avarice attention jerked forth. Eyes widened following the chittering sound of a familiar feline she’d not seen since a disastrous ceremony. “Os…manthus?” Her voice pitched as she proceeded to rub her palm against her face to clear away another bout of tears.  She watched as the feline marched about her ankles to which she promptly knelt down to pick said feline upholding him out so that his face met with hers. Dark brows knitted upon her mother’s face. If she were to bear the skin of a wolf, hackles would have long risen and teeth bore. Composure remained stilled on behalf of her daughters presence. She was quiet, though her lavender eyes sharpened – unyielding of the feline. Avarice seemed unphased – if anything pleased by the sudden added company. “I’ve… I’ve missed you, I hope you have been well,” she hoped to draw the feline to her breast in a gentle cradle, sniffling as her gaze briefly turned back to the stained sheets. “Ah, Osmanthus this is my mother,” she motioned the witch, Poltergeist’s gaze hardened on the cat still. “Mother, this is Osmanthus. I look after him sometimes for… a… a friend.”  the words sounded just as odd on her tongue as one could imagine. Poltergeist tilted her head curtly; “Is that so?” A brow rose, lavender sights quickly searching her daughter finding no trace of any… threat. An unwelcome scent that she’d noticed upon her arrival however long faded. There was a gentle knock at the door, a coroner looking worse for wear. The young maiden drew the feline closer to her person though careful not to suffocate the poor beast. Her mother’s gaze softening though ever wary of the little beast she carried before she excused herself to her own quarters to leave her mother to the untimely preparations.  A soft click indicated her success in locking her main door where she then freed the feline in the sanctuary of her chambers. The balcony left slightly ajar.  Pale knees met the surface of a plush floor and shoulders slumped. “Is Theodred alright, Osmanthus?” Her jaw tightened, digits digging into her unkempt garments. “I do not think I can fathom the loss of two friends so dear to me, foolish as it may sound..” new tears formed lowering her crown so that her temple gently pressed against the maine coons.

Jahi