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((Continuation of Battlegrounds RP... without the battle. Mutual decision that the fight should be a draw and move into RP, since both characters kind of lost their taste for blood. Original Battle Here))



Amara watched the creature try to settle in, and then cough. "Mmm... I will -never- welcome you here, creature. I will tell all the fungi about you, all the mushrooms and the things that grow in the moist and the dark. That may seem like a small thing, but mmm, they are numerous and ever spreading." Amara lowered herself down the tree, treating one arm gingerly. The creature had injured her. She tucked it neatly in the sleeve of her garb and leaned against the tree she had just descended, using its strong trunk to brace herself.






A susikoira wandered from the darkness behind Amara, padding into the clearing. It watched her carefully at first, looking back at the creature, then padded forward and nuzzled her. Was that dried blood on its muzzle? Amara opened her eyes slowly and looked up at it. It was covered in blood spatters, and its eyes glowed. But it had the sweetest gold flower, and she understood. Finally, the forest was here to protect her. Exhausted, Amara collapsed into its fur as it curled up around her.

"What's your name?" Amara whispered, petting it idly.
"Boltere." The susikoira let out a low growl. While Amara rested her eyes, Boltere watched the creature trying to sunbathe.

Amara slept against Boltere, her little mask bobbing up and down. As such, it was Boltere who witnessed the orange creature float over to the other susikoira. Strange. Boltere was disused to seeing others of his kind. Protectively, Boltere curled his tail around his charge. He had seen her there, smelled her pain on the wind. His power was that: a blood scent, a violent fury. Despite his better nature.

This time, he had used his battle senses to save a Skull child, instead of to cause harm. He nuzzled her soft ears with his bloodied muzzle, gently, inhaling the scent of something damp and earthy. It smelled like home. As he did so, however, Amara rolled in her sleep and grabbed hold of his fur with both her tiny fists, mumbling, "Mmm... Honey... Minerva, come back... So hungry.. Mmm... Sad and smooth songs..." The big, pink-furred susikoira didn't move at all, though she was actually kind of irritating him. He just huffed in reluctant acceptance, watching Cam.

Until Amara woke, Boltere might not say anything at all. He could smell Amara's scent on the orange creature, and knew that he had been caused harm. Not as much as the little Amara, but still; his blood scent was there.

"How should I know?" Boltere snarled, snapping his jaw and curling tighter around the Forest child, whose groping hands was making him increasingly agitated. "I don't associate with any creatures like either of you. I find it unpleasant." And yet here he was, curled around a forest child like a mother. His fur stood on end. But he felt for the little thing, and even for her people; the ones who hid beneath masks. His kind wore bone masks as well. The tie between them seemed undeniable. Boltere licked idly at his paw, grooming the caked blood. He liked the taste, and it appeased him. Uncomfortably, he stretched as much as he could, and resumed cradling the child, watching the susikoira and the orange thing.

"I have not met another of my own kind in some time. What is your name? I feel that our natures oppose one another." Boltere turned to the orange thing. "And I have never met one of you before. What are you? What are you called?"

Boltere inclined his head towards Cam and regarded him without blinking. "I suppose we are few and far between, then." Boltere couldn't help but feel a little giddy and thoroughly amused that Cam appeared to be so uncomfortable. He noted the agitation of Cam's butterflies with pleasure, licking more of the blood from his fur, matting it against his leg. "Compassion? I think you are sorely mistaken in that. Your faith is misplaced. I love nothing. I have no compassion. Only duty, bloodthirst, pride." Boltere did not bother trying to justify the Forest Child. She slept on, contentedly. No, it was not love, and hardly compassion. He merely saw a fight he did not like and intervened. Why not, if there was the chance at bloodshed.

"A will o' wisp? Perhaps I have heard stories. I wonder if your bones crunch well?" Boltere bared his fangs in what was supposed to be a grin, but probably didn't look like it. His tail swept the ground impatiently, eager to get going, to continue hunting.

Amara began to stir. It had only been a short while, but she felt rested and better already; the fungi had seen to that, calming her down, singing her lullabies which no one else could hear. She climbed onto the Susikoira's back, onto Boltere's back, and nuzzled into his fur. He huffed. "Child, you are pulling my fur, again. Mind you don't tug it all out."

Boltere huffed again, and turned back to Cam, "Is this what we are both reduced to, babysitting for young ones?" He made a face which could possibly pass for a wry smile, possibly for mild pain. It was a little hard to tell which. He had come to respect the other Susikoira in that he saw the power which was not to be trifled with. He didn't intend to go after the orange creature, though; it wasn't worth his effort. Not enough meat on the bones to make the hunt satisfying once it turned into the feast. More like the light snack, with all the substance on his him.

Essentially, Boltere ignored Icarus. Amara, however, was now fully awake. "You're still here, orange thing? Mmm, you aren't welcome. I thought I made that clear." Amara rustled around in Boltere's fur again, only her eyes peeking out from beneath her mask visible over his spine. She had climbed onto his side and stood in the dirt, as if he was a shield.