[hr][hr][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/50VBWNfh/63507c917b644ae085a53d695ad43269.png[/img]
[img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/2fa3b68ea7ccb5e241580009fa3f8dfe/tumblr_nrjjdcXvK71uq1wtvo1_500.gif[/img][/center][hr][hr][h3][b][i][center][color=8519A2]Arc I - Terreille in Trouble[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h3]
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[center][h3][color=SlateBlue]In her workroom within Ashkevron Residence, Askavi[/color][/h3]
[color=SlateBlue]Interacting with[/color] [@Slim Shady]
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Faeril gave a squawk as she was scooped up and carried from the room. Her mind slightly blurred by sleep and stunned by the indignation of her position. "What do you think you are doing?!" She protested, if she hadn't drained her jewel the Widow would be trying her best to slap her kidnapper silly. Alas, she was incredibly weak much to her disgust. This is what she got trying to help people!

Xandar brought the bed and put it back into its original spot as he gently lay Faeril back down in her original position. He shrugged his shoulders “Well you were complaining I moved your bed, so, I moved it back. Simple enough.” Xandar yawned as he crawled into bed next to her, taking the covers and burying himself in them. “Now you can go back to sleep, Lady Faeril.”

The dark brow twitched as Faeril stared at the obnoxious warrior. "I shall." She growled deeply. "Get out of my bed!" She tried to snarl, a weak yawn interrupting the threat. Pushing at his larger form to try and force him from her. "You bone-headed-! I will rip your stitches out!"

“Hey, I worked very hard to keep those stitches in, per your advice.” He groaned, not even dazed by the weak pushing he felt. He curled up tighter into the blankets, peeking his head out. “Come on, one night? Mikhail bloodied up my usual sleeping area and all the other furniture. You could be a gracious host and provide me a place other than the floor.”

Faeril sighed, at least this Eyrien was taking care of his wounds. Others like him would be ripping wounds open just to prove who could flex more. Then her thoughts paused as she growled. "What...? What did Mikhail do to my house?!" Faeril swung her legs over the edge of the bed as she pushed herself weakly to her feet.

Xandar sighed, seeing Faeril try to get herself up and roam the house. He leaned forward, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back into bed with him. He kept his one arm draped across the front of her. “Shh. Don’t worry about it. We can take care of that tomorrow. It’s late and you need your rest.”

The Black Widow glared at the man over her shoulder as Xandar yanked her back to the bed. While she was concerned about the house, it was hard to keep that to the forefront of her mind. It was late. A late morning, along early afternoon of fights, and then whatever they had done. It was now merely early evening, but having stayed up the night before. Faeril was feeling the ache of tired bones. "I'm a gracious host. I haven't killed you yet." She hissed, pointedly moving Xandar's arm off her waist as she laid her head on the bed. "And I could give you worse than the floor."

Xandar groaned, retracting his hand and rolling over as he laid facing away from the Black Widow. He knew that she should rest and if she wasn't going to realize that herself he would babysit her and make sure she was in full health. They would need her strength in these coming days, and she was far from replaceable. This much he knew, considering she was the one to heal him. "How rude. Then how would I go about chopping your wood with a sore back? As much as you won't admit it, you need me just as much as I need you. And I need you to rest and relax a little."

Faeril huffed a breath as she pointedly ignored and failed to ignore Xandar. "I am resting!" Relaxing, however... especially with the most annoying Eyrien to walk through her door next to her. "I'll gut you." Came the tired mutter.

[center][h3][color=SlateBlue]In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador[/color][/h3]
[color=SlateBlue]Interacting with[/color] [@Slim Shady] [@eclecticwitch] [@13org] [@SilverPaw] [@Zoey White]
It had been a solid few days since the group had left the Ashkevron residence in Aven. Faeril had been less than thrilled to leave her family home, but there was little other choice as the Queen was hot on their heels. Randalvar had taken possession of the property and sworn to keep it safe for her return. A return she did not expect to ever be a thing. It might have been to Mikhail's relief that Randalvar had also promised to make sure her eyrie would be cleaned and kept that way averting the woman's wrath. Gennar and his two brothers had been hovering about the Queen and the Black Widow as much as they could despite the fact they were needed to act as the group's hands among the Eyrien settlements. They were not suspect unlike Xandar and could be risked, unlike Faeril. A point that all three had ganged up on their younger friend about. Faeril's job was to keep safe and thus out of the way.

It was through the brothers that the group was able to procure a coach, one that Gennar felt comfortable steering through the Blue Winds, though not the green. With four Eyriens, Mikhail, Jandar, Dareen and Fatima not to mention two horses a larger coach had been procured. Something that Gen would not speak about the price of what it cost him. "We can afford it." He stated simply, though he did whisper something to Faeril. Dareen would be the only one who overheard. The coach had cost enough to keep a family fed for a year, an outrageous sum. Faeril had winced at the price, but said nothing. The coach was a means to the end and got them out of the mountains of Askavi as quickly as possible.

Now, they stood before the landing web of a ruined town. Off in the distance was a second town. What might have been a Landen's village before the Blood claimed it for their own. War had come here in the past few decades, as in evidence in the hollow shells of homes and shops charred from fire. The blood-red witch blood bloomed about the buildings and along one side of the street. Left untended and a reminder to the horror that was being wrecked across the realms. Around the village, a circle where the Shalador people once had danced was now grown over and thorns weaved into the grasses. The tall yellow sea that surrounded the town interrupted with strands of orchards and trees. True forests to the east and far closer to the foot of the mountains.

Assured no one was in the town, the three brothers had returned to the carriage with their news. Gennar offered a hand to help Fatima out first as well as Faeril, the latter of who had recovered in part from overworking herself. "There's a newer town out to the north-east, but we didn't see or sense anyone in the area close to us." Gen reported. "Figured we ought to pause here and figure out if we want to stop by the town or not."

Faeril nodded to herself as she looked at the ruined shells that were once were homes. Homes she did not want to draw the memories out of, for the last memories here would be of things better explained by the blood red flowers. "We should stop, if only to hear the news." She offered as she looked at the witchblood flowers. Turning her head away after a time.