[ P ] uninvited

There were many celebrations and customs that Echo still didn't quite understand and a fair few beliefs that she scoffed at. Living at the College gave her somewhat of an education and understanding of Highlander and Lowlander beliefs but she always found there had been a... detachment from it all. She enjoyed the learning, surprisingly enough, but being the first-born Lowlander of her family had made it difficult for her to connect to it all on a deeper, more spiritual level. It made her sad sometimes if she thought about it for too long, so she often pushed the feeling of not belonging away before it got too prominent. Still, there were some celebrations that she enjoyed - Samhain being one of them. Echo didn't believe in spirits like the Highlanders did but she found the idea behind it all endearing. This was her second Samhain, though it felt a little odd being at the bonfire by herself. Last year she had attended with her mother. This year Echo had searched for the lights just as before, letting them guide her into the heart of the mountains to the impressive bonfire nestled within. In the end it was easy to find - the sound of singing and merriment sounded ethereal as it bounced off the mountains and through the valleys. Not much of a dancer Echo preferred to observe and listen. The fire was warm and welcoming and she even found herself smiling as she watched the merriment and listened in to the elders telling stories. Honestly, she was having a good time until she saw him. At first she'd not realised who it was until she did a double-take and sure enough, she recognised those fiery orange eyes and white-tipped toes. He'd been one of the soliders she'd met a while ago down near Edinburgh. He and his companion had found her picking clean a ruin. As much as she felt out of place with Highlander tradition there was something in her that was enraged to see a soldier thinking they could waltz on in. Were there any others in his patrol here? Was he planning on arresting them for disorderly conduct or other such nonsense? Puffing up her chest Echo stalked towards him, her face a dark storm cloud as she approached. "What are you doing here?" Her tone was low and hissed, not wanting to be loud and cause a scene but also wanting to get across how unwelcome he was. Perhaps it was the thought that she was surrounded by Highlanders and Lowlanders that made her so bold, she certainly hadn't used such a tone with him the first time they'd met.

He marveled at the lights as they glowed within the dark, rivaling the fireflies that blinked within the darkness like wayward will-o-wisps. Whenever he drifted near the ceremonial blaze, the heat would banish the autumn chill from his bones and singe his fur. Sparks would spiral toward him and one stung his nose, causing him to skitter back and earn a couple sneers. For that, he was embarrassed—but not offended. He knew when he ventured out into the mountains that he would be unwelcome company. Despised even, but he did not wish to live in fear when he was so desperately trying to carve out a home in Rionnach. Although many soldiers had remained at camp and not dared to interfere with the Highlanders' rituals, Victorian wanted to understand the wolves that he was protecting.

A pair of drunk dancers swirled by and Victorian's ears flicked back as he narrowly avoided a tail to his face. The wolf, seemingly drunk from the perfume of alcohol in her fur and the lazy come hither nature in her gaze, glanced over her shoulder before wobbling away with her companion. Victorian felt his cheeks flush and he stepped away from the fire, careful to avoid other party-goers. He wished to observe rather than partake. Out of respect, he had not drifted near the boar that was being served. Although its savory, greasy scent called to him, he tried to ignore the rumbling of his stomach.

Such a feat was made easier when he saw the woman stalking up to him.

At first, he didn't recognize her. Her eyes looked green from the firelight distorting to the color and the white patches in her fur seemed orange. Only when she was close, her chest puffed out and her expression cross, did he realize that he knew her in the worst sense of the word.

Flustered, Victorian's ears flicked back. For a moment, he forgot that he was a soldier of the Imperial Army. "I..." His words escaped him as the guilt for having visited welled within his tummy.

And then, some part of him steeled. What do I have to feel guilty for? Existing? Gritting his teeth, he tried to swallow his shame and he leaned forward, meeting her gaze squarely. "I just wanted to see what it was like." He wasn't the most eloquent in this moment, but fancy words escaped him. "It seems, no—it is—nice." Victorian matched the hushed urgency of her tone and met her gaze with as much confidence as he could muster.

Still, he was trepidatious. If she ordered him to leave, would he refuse her? He'd be bitter but... probably not.

@Echo

There was a moment, she noticed, of confusion as it took a moment for him to remember her, but she saw the moment in his eyes when it clicked. She wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't remembered her; she was sure she was just one of many citizens they had to deal with on a daily basis and certainly she wasn't the only surly one they would have come across. Still, she was glad she'd left some sort of lasting impression, even if it wasn't a good one. It would make this quicker, and a large part of her really didn't care if soldiers found her appeasing or not. At first he seemed unsure, perhaps taken aback by her tone and harsh words. Not what she expected from a soldier but then he had been rather quiet at their last interaction. Unfortunately he then seemed to find himself, drawing himself up and forward as he leaned towards her, his gaze catching hers. Was it a challenge? "I just wanted to see what it was like. It seems, no—it is—nice." She met his gaze, steeling herself in place even as he leaned in to match her own hushed tone. Her tail lashed angrily behind her. "It is nice," she agreed. "So we don't want soldiers coming in and ruining it." She spat the word soldier as if venom coated her tongue. It was very clear what she thought of his profession. "We're not doing anything wrong here. You can't tell us to stop." They were everywhere - the soldiers - like ants, invading in every little nook and cranny of Rionnach, telling people what to do and getting away with whatever they liked just because they could say they worked for Adamh. It infuriated her to no end, it it was vividly clear on her face that she truly believed him here to disrupt their event.

They were a mirror of one another, albeit one was tinged blue whilst the other was orange. If one narrow their eyes, the other would soon follow. It was a concert of perfect symmetry, each tense muscle finding its match in its mirror image. A lash of the tail earned a twitch of an ear and the synergy was broken if only for a moment.

Her muzzle contorted as she spat the word soldier, her tongue like a whip as she harassed him for the very space that he took up. Amber eyes blazed with the injustice of it all and he felt something acidic take root in his stomach. It was a little seed of aggression, one that he had not had time to nurture.

Not until joining Rionnach.

But it was little more than a sprout and he lacked the confidence and wherewithal to assert his authority over this stranger, no matter how rude she was. "No, no, you're right. That's all soldiers do. We destroy everything and shut everything down. We haven't protected a single soul. We're demons summoned by the King to do his dirty work," Victorian growled with blatant sarcasm in every word.

"Are you always a rat just because you've crawled through an abandoned castle a time or two?" Nostrils flared as he vehemently met blue eyes.

@Echo

It was like some awful dance between them. A battle of words. A stab here, a deflect there, a messy tangle of emotions that neither party understood... or perhaps deserved. But Echo was good at that. She was good at taking the things that hurt inside her the most and turning them into thorny vines that she wore around herself like armor, making other people hurt too if they got too close. This Soldier, he had every right to be offended, to feel hurt for the vitriol sent his way for merely existing. But Echo didn't see it that way. Echo rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "Pretty sure last time we met, you and your friend tried to steal from me." They'd called it tax, but to her is was basically theft. "We're demons summoned by the King to do his dirty work," A tight smile pulled at the corner of her lips, humorless, her own sarcasm coating her words. "Well hey, you're beginning to catch on." At his name-calling she bristled. "Fine, I'm a rat," she'd been called worse things, she supposed. "And you work for a man who sits atop a throne, wants for nothing, claims lands he probably has never even seen or traveled and yet still claims the resources found there. He gets you to take what he does not need from wolves like me. So if I'm a rat, what does that make you?" Despite her words they did not come out as acidic and accusatory as she intended, instead, taking on a curious lilt, as if she were genuinely curious to hear his answer. "We're not doing anything wrong here. You can't tell us to stop."

At the mention of stealing, Victorian flinched slightly. If she cared to see it, she would have noticed a flicker of guilt. For a moment, he did not stare at her face. Ignoring their respective sides, he had felt uncomfortable taking the tax from her. It had not felt right, not given the circumstances. They had known so little about her—whether she had paid her fair share before or not. Then again, he had not spoken up to defend her. As a soldier, he was at the bottom of the totem pole. He'd had no right to refute Colonel Kvothe. Especially not in front of her.

Still, hot coals burned in his belly as she ignored his sarcasm and twisted it into truth. Dark ears flared forward and amber eyes narrowed, the moment of guilt and regret gone.

At least she was stung by his comment, too, and that brought a vindictive sort of pleasure. Even as her voice began to lose its fervor in favor of a questioning lilt, he could not let go of the frustration that burned within his blood.

"Probably?" he echoed, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing. "Do you make damning assumptions about everyone you do not know?" His lips pursed, the steam leaving him as discomfort began to take its place. "Those taxes are redistributed back to the clinics and to fund the college. It's not supposed to be theft, it's—" But what was the point of this conversation? Did he try to explain to her that it was supposed to be all of them cooperating? Working together?

He didn't know her life, he didn't know this land's history. No.. he was just trying to survive and put his sister through college. So what right did he have to espouse King Adamh's praises or the army's? He liked to think that it was virtuous, he had never felt like the army was in the wrong until they had taxed this girl directly.

But even that had felt like a small mistake. Perhaps, from his position of naive privilege, he was inclined to think that.

"Does it matter what I am? If I just leave you and your family alone, is that good enough?" He just wanted to stop being bothered, to stop fighting. If she released him, then he would find Manon and tell her he was going home.

@Echo