[ P ] Good things fall apart

Nassar had always liked the highlands, cultural differences aside. Since she was old enough to walk, she had tried to make her way as far north as her legs—and her mother—would allow. Not because she had rebellion in her heart but because she felt free. Where the mainland had grown under the confines of strict laws and rules, the highlands felt wild. It was exhilarating for a young girl... and for an older woman as well.

It was a shame that, as her gaze panned over the quiet dwellings on the other side of the river, she felt a pit of bitterness in her stomach. Had the man that murdered her husband been raised here? Had he laughed and played by the water and traded rabbits with the merchant on the corner? Or had he simply sheltered here before ambushing her husband and felling him?

These lands had been battlefields not even a year ago. Already, life had steadily returned to normal—or something resembling it.

Nassar could not relax her guard, however. Nor could she feel affection for the highlanders as they milled about (and that detest went both ways). Amber eyes met those of green and blue, staring until the other glanced away and carried on. Thus far, none dared to challenge her. And, restless as always, she was not sure which she preferred.

As a Lieutenant Major, it was best for her to not stir up any trouble. As a grieving widow, her heart yearned for a bitter form of release.

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@Meala

It had been a while since she walked these flowing banks, the grasses of the highlands welcoming but at the same time empty, numb, prickling against her pawpads, daring and stern as though threatening to maim them if she moved along too carelessly, adding yet another's blood to the mixture of secrets which kept the land hardy and full. With a glimmer of defiance, she stepped just a little harder, the muscles in her shoulders constricting. She didn't enjoy being here, being back, and yet she still had come, but for what purpose? Perhaps it was the nostalgia of a world that only asked for her survival instead of her mind, as well.

With the flicker of her fiery eyes, Meala caught sight of an individual along the opposite side of the shores and, if for only a moment, her mind had feigned ignorance to the past year, to the loss, to the anticipation of the fair folk's merciless ploys, and moved forward without hesitation, a grin spreading across velveteen lips. She knew of that stance, of that far away gaze, and curiosity quickly replaced what little reservation she held in seeing yet another solider along the banks of Inverness.

"Out to receive some well needed break, solider," she called happily in question, a heavier accented tone softening at the very end, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she stopped right in front of her. "Or, waiting for someone to show?"

@Nassar

table ; bunny

She had not expected anyone to speak to her, let alone with a chipper voice and an easy smile. It was this surprise that caused Nassar's brow to rise, amber eyes reflecting notes of wariness—but intrigue as well. A gray ear flicked as she turned her head. What she saw was a large, earthen she-wolf. Their eyes had the same auburn hue, and they were roughly the same age as well. Although not a long list of similarities, it brought enough familarity that Nassar allowed her guard to slip ever so gently. Not entirely, but enough for her to not greet the stranger with the sharp edge of suspicion.

"A break," she answered, validating the stranger's question as correct. "Visiting, really." Briefly, she glanced over her shoulder at the river that cut the city in half. "It has been some time since I was able to—" And not see the bodies that had been left behind from the grizzly conflict. For a time, the carrion crows had outnumbered the wolves here.

Glancing back at the woman, Nassar cocked her head. "Do you have army affiliations?" She couldn't help but ask for most adopted plain animosity when they met a wolf of the King's cloak. At least, highlanders tended to be the most violent. Nassar would have thought this woman a mainlander if not for the thickness of her accent. "Forgive me if this is rude, but you are far more welcoming than most in these parts."

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@Meala