Of Blue Mingles & Grey Areas

Havvenchael Seveneth

Havvenchael’s Seventh Sector was beginning to feel like home, as they were starting now to recognize certain shops and establishments they’d seen for weeks.

“I had fun with you this sun-rising, Siin.” Halycind opened after walking hand in arm with him into town.

“And I, you.” He smiled, mussing her wolaenki.

“I feel like I learned something.”

“I was just thinking the same, pup.”

“You’re such a scholar. A brilliant person.”

“There's that word again. You're making me think those things about you, Cash.”

A coy grin slid up to his eyes. “What? You mean things like how that Ghostgale caught the end of my blade?”

“You killed the thing, skinned it, cut up its meat, made carts to drag it into town on while dead on your feet, order armour so you could kill it better next time, died, came back to life, and is now wearing your kill.”

“What, that make your trousers tight?” She ribbed, giving his excited frame a good once over.

“Of course, it makes my—I mean—I—What I meant is...it's not short of magnificent, Princess. They'll be telling stories of you every May Rising hence. So don't think me any mightier than you.”

"Then you should have seen me kick that cut girl's arse." She was still toying with their playful attractions to one another as was seemingly the natural way for females in Ashok to tease their chosen males. A half-thought of her awareness of that ingrained behaviour pecked at his humour but the majority of his mind was attempting to remember this fight she spoke of.

“When'd you do that?” He asked, attempting to pluck a memory. “Oh, right!” The image of an unconscious woman flying out of the Glorious Toot waved through his amused memory.“Oooh, right." He uttered again remembering how Halycind’s beautiful figure looked storming from said altercation, rife with another woman’s blood on her fists. "Oh, right." He again stated, hot now with the thought of his Princess’s skills as he watched her walk ahead of him toward the Mixer’s Galleria.

She’d eyed the line of artistry shops here once before and was confident of her way as she scoped even the Inker’s shop for her tantantoa.

“I need to get it etched. My kill of the gale.”

“Yes.” He wanted to watch that happen. He wanted to see her naked golden-bronze skin. “You do.”

As they approached, the two happened upon a brewing throng and quarrel between two men over which blue would have been the bluest blue to use for next season on Havvenchael’s battle standards. One of them boldly boasted he was going to venture to produce the truest blue that had ever been crafted.

Both hunters looked to each other.

“That’s not going to end well.” Siin chided.

“Nope.” She agreed, averting her gaze from the flamboyantly dressed artists as they stepped up to the open doorway of the Mixer’s Galleria. “But first..this mix needs to become a workable stain for the Queen’s needs.”

She was so lovely, WarQueen Brisbe-Hexandrea. Her lips were full and matched flirtatiously with that vibrant red Re-Coloured streak in her spirally brown hair. Her Isam eyes were of the purest yellow against her flawlessly chocolate brown skin. What ever she was going to do with this red pigment would look exquisite against it. She understood why all the boys at the feast, including Percival, stole glances at her the whole evening before. She and the WarQueen had become friendly fast and ate heartily of the Ghostgale's ribs and haunches. She'd asked Halycind to retell her near-fall three times over as other Lordes, Ladies, Archons, and servants entered her hall.

Halycind had told her she would ask the armourer of the Tooth & Nail to fashion her a satchel much like Halycind's from the gale skin in surplus. Everyone had been so impressed with her but she'd still felt she'd done nothing much at all. Her country was full of hunters that could do better than even she? She offered Siin a sweet smile, thinking on all things, going inside. “Wait here.”

“Forever.” He trifled with a grin as he set his back to the door sill. Looking at all the leaves he’d procured from the pretty tree that bid them well, he thought of the creamed ice his Halycind would make for him to enjoy.

He’d almost cursed himself this morning having made all these advancements toward a woman he’d decided he couldn’t have. He felt like he was lying to himself, and to her, worse yet. A sticking memory of her dying several times in the infirmary and the rage he felt against everything living made him worry if his love for her was too strong. Percival’s guidance had encouraged his right thinking toward playful chats and mild interactions but his heart still beat with raging thoughts against anything daring to harm her. He was glad he’d confessed but he was worried he’d started something he couldn’t control.

The aBn’s dimming thoughts were interrupted by a small grin on a young woman with short fire-red hair and blue-grey eyes beaming over at him. She had stopped mid-step after having taken in the fine armour and handsomeness of the mage.

“Good day, Magus.” She greeted, the blues and silvers of her form-fitting velvet attire glittering just enough in the sun’s light.

“It’s aBn actually.” He eased.

“Oh, my humblest.” She gracefully dipped in apology. He was holding her gaze only in that it looked like she wanted to touch him, but he was serving her eyes that shown he was not interested.

It was unclear if she’d grokked his unspoken warning. “I—I do hope you are enjoying May Rising?” She asked optimistically.

“I am.” He said truthfully, not being ungracious in the moment. “Now that my feather’s awake.” He stated plainly.

“Oh, you’ve a feather—uh—“ Her disappointed words were stopped cold, just as Halycind breached the doorway and the pretty maiden caught a quick flare of a wolf’s will in her hotly glowing amber eyes. Halycind hadn’t heard his words but her instincts told her body this girl was showing an interest in someone she shouldn’t; so her Ashok fire bade the lovely velvet girl to back off.

“Oh, the Gale-Killer.” She gasped behind a folded lace fan, quickly having observed Halycind’s eyes and white armours. “Oh, my.” She dipped kindly, her retreat. “Good day, ma’dam. aBn. Please, fare well. Both.”

They both bowed heads to her in return. The heels of her fine knee high boots took her on into the city not daring to look back upon her interests.

“Who was that?” Halycind said sounding almost unaffected in her tone.

“Not you. So, what does it matter?”

They both smirked at one another. “She was gorgeous, Siin.” Halycind said truthfully, aware now she’d killed a moment by entering the play, though extraordinarily grateful her body had defended her fancy on its own. She really didn't like the notion of anyone coming on to him.

He took in a decisive breath. “She was, but so are you...if I’ve never said it.” Whatever decisions he’d made he was beginning to make even more on top of them. He felt her hook her arm in his again, differently this time, as if she didn’t care if anyone knew how she felt about him. He was definitely going to need to have a real talk with his pup, if even to just suss out their feelings altogether.

“When do you have to pick up that stain?” His chin pointed towards the door she’d just exited.

“Two days time.” Halycind said, pensive in her tone.

“Hm, not bad a wait. Wish Percival would gives us orders in such a timely manner.”

“What were we supposed to be doing with him today, anyway?”

“Some sort of briefing. I told him I had plans later.” He huffed, then looked down to her on his arm and smiled. “So I needed him to hurry up with these words of his.”

“He’s not as strict as he lets on.”

“It comes and goes depending on who he’s interacting with, I’m afraid. He gives Kodlaa far too much leeway. Me...Me he orders around.”

“Because you’re his ward?”

“Yup.”

The delicatessen she’d eyed before was just near her sight and she began to pull Siin toward it.

“Hey you hungry?”

“I am.”

“I’ll feed you.”

Something deep within him wanted to throw discussion out of the window and just openly display his affections for her now in these packed city streets, as her words had charged up a whole host of memories from when she’d fed his homelessness in childhood. He loved Halycind’s kindness, how willing she'd been to just let him be who he was. How could he possibly think a weaker love would serve him better?