[Lyra] Mutual Understanding

[Rickter]

Mutual Understanding
Ash 9th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

It had been a few days since their last expedition down into the Warrens, since then Rickter has hardly had time to process what really happened of course, but with the help of one familiar face that task became monumentally easier. Cizein had joined Rickter for a bit of lunch at the High Hopes Tavern, shortly after Telion and Hannah had gone out on the town, likely to find a few more straightforward jobs since they still worked as freelancers also. The wolf himself however had hoped to make this a fine opportunity, and thus made it one worth counting as he and the warrior shared drinks for a while. Admittedly the member of the Slayer's Keep missed his old partner, but he knew there was nothing to be done about it, after the initial outcome that took place moments after Pekr's untimely demise.

Still, it was somewhat odd seeing Cizein out of his gear and in his other attire, though the same could very well likely be said about Rickter also. Both wore shirts that were short-sleeved, Rickter's practically nonexistent, with the only difference in color. Cizein had worn red, while the wolf himself wore white over the torso, with a pair of beige-dyed trousers to go with it. The Slayer himself still wore leather pants instead, along with a leather vest that appeared to be made of the same material as that lizard. "That's about all I know really..." He admitted with a puzzled frown as he looked to his drink next, Rickter's own eyes trailing along the man's forearms to see every visible scar possible.

"Milla was the girl's name huh?" Ricker reiterated as he raised his mug for a brief swig, highly curious as to who the person was before Lyra came into the picture.

"Supposedly she worked for several of the guilds, but she was mostly involved in the Circle from what I know. Was there a reason why you wanted to ask me all this?" The hardened warrior questioned with a narrowed look of speculation.

"Just genuine curiosity." Rickter bluffed in return, hiding the actual concern with his expression firm as stone. Cizein admittedly chuckled a bit before taking a swig from his mug.

"Curiosity is what killed the cat... Though I suppose it's a good thing you're a mutt." For once the wolf genuinely grinned, his eyes still averted within his mug as he leaned to rest it on the table. "That's it then?"

"For now, yes." Rickter confirmed as he rose onto his feet, allowing himself to stretch a bit before looking down at Cizein. "For what it's worth, Pekr was a good fighter. I hope things work out for you." The statement garnered a short lapse in surprise, before the Slayer himself scoffed at him with the tough-guy facade.

"He was a pain in the ass, and you must have gone soft, feelin' sorry like that." Yet there was that look in his eyes, a mutual understanding that somehow existed between them. "Take care of yourself out there Rickter. We'll no doubt be seeing more of each other later." At that the wolf nodded in agreement, pulling himself away from the table so that he could exit the premises with a stride. Once he was out the door the wolf didn't slow, not when he had an idea of where he needed to go now. From what he'd learned after talking with Cizein, Milla was a scholar with an interest in magic, even so much as to study artifacts when the opportunities came. What took a bit of time to dig for, however, was the location of Milla's own home in actuality. Cizein didn't outright know before their meeting of course, but after what happened in the Warrens, it was apparent that he too had reservations about Lyra.

So imagine the surprise of learning Rickter himself wanted to meet with the woman. He hadn't ever really got to know who Lyra was once they got back, mostly because he'd been so busy with things as of late, that he barely had the time to manage a meeting such as this. Still, Cizein pulled through when he was really needed, therefore Rickter would remember to repay the favor one day. For now, though he moved onward, heading down the Plaza towards the area the apartment was located. From what he'd learned it was an easy-to-miss place, one that lingered on a nearby corner of an alleyway if he didn't watch for it. Eventually, the search led him further down than expected, nearly reaching another area of the Commons where more residential homes were found; as was the apartment described in Cizein's collective intel.

For a warrior like him, the man certainly had tact, enough so that he was actually more intelligent than he let on. Not that Rickter had anything bad to say about it, as he clearly wasn't without his own facets to deal with. Regardless when he arrived at the door of the apartment, the wolf lingered there for a moment before raising a hand, generating a few knocks closely rhythmic in order of occurrence. Afterward, he stood a couple of feet from the door and crossed his arms, waiting to see if Lyra would come to answer or not.

[Lyra]

Black tendrils of smoke flowed through the room, wrapping the furniture and flowing over the floor and walls in lazy billowing waves. The vessel sat straight-backed and still in the chair, bare to the world with hands raised at chest level. In each was a long, thin needle. Before the body Lyra herself rested, floating half formed in the air with her cheek resting on one hand. Gold eyes flashed up and down the now mostly finished glyph, a series of dots that traveled up and down the body in regular patterns. The glazed, dead eyes of Milla stared out, unblinking and unseeing. Into these eyes Lyra stared for a time, her thoughts falling over one another in a careless tumble.

The world has changed so much... It was not the first time she had thought this, and it would not be the last. Flowing forward Lyra rested a half formed hand, long pail fingers wrapping around the cold flesh of the vessel as it began to lower itself back toward the chest, toward the heart of the glyph. A large oval with a cross at its center, with dots leading out to the spine and to the limbs. A few more dots were added, completing a section that had been wavering slightly.

The funds this one has will only last for so long. Once more this routine began, but still she continued the thought process as she worked, This body will steadily decay despite these glyphs. Perhaps another season or two before the decay becomes too pervasive and a new one must be found...

That was perhaps the most pressing concern, her physical form. She had to possess a body of flesh to interact with the world, however... after her release Lyra had steadily begun to realize just how far she had fallen. Her whispers were no more, and she could no longer infect the minds and bodies of the living like she once could. She could take over the corpses of the dead, though only because there was no soul within to push out her or overwhelm her influence. She had begun to test this with small creatures, the rats and mice in the alleys and streets in the corners of Kalzasi. The lesser creatures she could force her will on to a point, but only when their soul had past on could she fully take over their bodies.

A new vessel will need to be prepared. Lyra thought as she finished, carefully having the corpse lower the needles to set them on the table beside the still open vial of spellwrights ink, One which will no decay, still living but unable to resist me.

There were ways for that to be done. If she could find the right tools, assuming this world even had access to the ways, of 'necromancy'. If she could create a new lab she could prepare a proper vessel, and so secure her place in this world. For that, however, she would require funds, and that was what kept Lyra's mind circling.

A knock on the door made Lyra turn, staring at the wooden barrier with a raised eyebrow. Who would be calling on her? An old acquaintance of this vessel? Unlikely. She had been sure to sever ties with the guild, with impunity. A friend? Family?

Frowning Lyra collected herself, the black smoke condensing and swirling like a vortex around the vessel as Lyra's ethereal form evaporated into the mix. Quickly the tendrils of black flowed into the open mouth, eyes and nose of the vessel, filling it until it was all contained and the foggy brown eyes shimmered to gold.

Shaking her head Lyra pushed the hair back from her face, letting the locks fall freely around her bare shoulders as she stood. She stretched, feeling her back crack several times before walking to the door and opening it fully. Her eyes met those of that man, the child from the underground... Lyra's brow furrowed in concentration, struggling to find a name but was unable to dredge one up. She stood there for several long seconds, one hand on the handle of the door, the other resting on her hip, naked and bare to the world as she looked deep in thought. Finally she blinked, looking for Ricky's eyes and tilting her head to the side.

"Is it me that you seek, or another?" Pausing Lyra searched the man up and down, glancing behind him, "Where is the girl?"

[Rickter]

There was honestly a pretty good chance, which he expected, that the door would not be answered after his knocks. In that scenario then the lady-like entity could've burned out, leaving behind only the rotting corpse of that poor girl. Though... Rickter didn't doubt the survival skills of this one, given the fact she'd been imprisoned in an unusual contraption for likely a millennium. Rickter didn't even know what kind of device it was, only that it kept something unknown and likely dangerous contained for a time. Now with it free, however, there was no telling what horrible machinations had started. Particularly behind that damned door, which opened rather quicker than he anticipated it to.

Thus the wolf's blue eyes widened initially, not because this figure startled him, but because of the fact she'd greeted him all bare. Lines looked to be traced, perhaps even painted, along portions of her grayed skin complexion. Damn. Were she not a walking corpse he'd likely be intrigued, flattered even, since it wasn't often women just greeted him with naught on. Then again he'd seen enough women at his other job, that it likely wouldn't have appealed as vividly as he figured. Regardless he looked at her a bit surprised, quick to avert his eyes until he noticed she looked past him. Hell, Rickter had to look also, dreading the horror one might find in glimpsing the poor girl before him.

And then he was asked about Telion. That quickly led him to develop a firm expression once more, his mind already earnestly racing for a well-thought remark. "She's busy." It was the truth in his eyes at least, which almost narrowed inquisitively on the being before him. "I'm here for you... aye." Certainly not in any other fashion that could've been implied, even the wolf had standards he upheld with himself, which was still beside the point of this visit entirely. "It's wonderful you bear no shame with your... condition." He meagerly gestured at the figure of her form, with his eyes still avoiding direct contact with her face.... or her lower body. Luckily it wasn't too hard since she stood lower than him, which ironically made being a supposed half-giant rather a boon.

"But at the same time," he started with a casual shift of his tone, "you may want to reconsider how you stand out otherwise." That much he would leave open for the girl to interpret, if this entity before him was anything reminiscent of a girl at least. Thus, with an assertive nod at the doorway he stood against, Rickter actually raised an eyebrow when he made the suggestive hint. "So, may I enter?"

[Lyra]

Lyra felt a flicker of amusement at the man's discomfort, making no move to hide as she leaned against the doorway. Her eyes wandered up and down him once more, several thoughts passing as she tapped into her rune. Her smile widened as he made his excuses for the girl, tasting his unease with a satisfying sigh.

"Shame is for the young, little one." Lyra chuckled, running a hand through her hair before letting her fingers trail along the edge of her cheek, stopping just before she reached her collar bone. Her eyes watched him with interest, but unfortunately, he seemed determined to give her nothing more. For a time she let him stand there, the request to enter unanswered so that they simply stared at one another until the silence began to become awkward. Then, with a sigh she relented, stepping back and waving him inside.

The apartment was small. A single bed and table, a chest for belongings, and a wardrobe were all that it contained besides the tiny stove. On the table, itself was several vials of corked ink, dirty bandages, supplies for what one could only assume were sewing, and several long thin needles all laid out in a row. Lyra motioned toward the singular chair in the apartment, moving to the wardrobe herself.

"It is rather forward to call upon a woman at her home, especially when you have only just met." The sound of rustling clothing came from the wardrobe as Lyra took her time looking through each and every outfit she had, "One would think you would have brought a present or favor, at the very least." She selected a simple set of dark robes, gold trim with wide sleeves. These she set on the bed, pressing the fabric out carefully so as not to wrinkle it. She returned to one of the drawers of the wardrobe, now sifting through several sets of undergarments, which she took the time to hold up and inspect. Each time she did so she glanced back at Ricky, offering a smile.

"If you have come for matters of the flesh I can say that this vessel is untried, though I will assure you that I myself and quite experienced." This was said as she began to dawn her underclothing, turning to face Ricky as she did. Her expression shifted to curiosity now, "Or did you perhaps come for another reason?"

[Rickter]

Rickter admittedly noticed how quickly the woman dismissed the idea of shame, leading up to the both of them gawking at one another not much longer after. Were it anybody else from the lower parts of the city, they would've undoubtedly given her remark on the concept of politeness in general, either that or simply chastised her for staring in such a way for too long. Hell, there were even folks who might've found real offense in the act, going so far as to 'discipline' a character such as this one from ever doing it again. Rickter though? He deferred from looking into others' eyes, only because he knew how well some could read into them. However, when the girl simply thought to watch him, the wolf in turn merely continued to stare back rather indirectly, avoiding direct eye contact while ignoring the fact that the lady still stood naked before him.

You're not the first I've been willing to outstare for very long... He contemplated to himself as he continually thought on the curiosity before him, admittedly realizing just how much of an enigma this entity really was. He'd chosen to defy her the moment she was released, unwilling to submit to whatever sorcery she'd cast upon them at the time. Now though he'd walked plainly into her midst, practically inviting her to give it a try no less, just so he could figure the woman out for himself. No doubt she strongly revels in personal freedom. He figured to himself given how uncaring she seemed to be with her new body, or rather how open and insouciant she projected herself as in turn. Honestly, what she'd already done with it was a bit of a mystery to Rickter, as he could only guess that those marks on her were a kind of magic he had yet to practice. One he could possibly learn to utilize if he remained selectively careful about how to learn of it more.

When she seemed to finally give in and sigh, with the air between only somewhat awkward, the golden-eyed woman moved aside to allow him through. In a sense, he'd felt he'd won that simple stalemate if it ever were such a thing; but Rickter knew that if they were ever really to 'debate,' then quite seriously would neither of them budge. Whatever the entity inside that body was, it was ancient and that much he knew, but Rickter wanted to get an idea of just how ancient she really was; as well as understand what her intents were now that she'd been released. Still, the wolf wasn't without slight amusement when he entered the premises, his blue eyes curiously scouring the small abode she had hidden within. After quietly shutting the door behind him, Rickter then considered his observations of the room they were in. So she was either a minimalist or had hardly settled into her new life yet, as whoever the scholar was before her hardly seemed to own much.

Although the items on the table were curious to look at, right away Rickter could detect the odor of ink lingering within the area of the room. The needles found next to them, all neatly lined also, indicated that she'd been in the middle of working on something. Granted her 'body' was now possessing a few new markings, the wolf surmised she had started tattooing them on there herself. It's a peculiar thing to be doing, but then again, not so much if it were magic related. Everything about this woman felt akin to magic, so much so that she actually felt like a precursor to the old world; the one lost within ages of myth and centuries of time. In being shown the chair, the wolf humbly nodded his head in turn, walking over to ease down into the chair as she moved toward the wardrobe. The wolf of course hadn't much to say, quite yet anyway, so he simply resorted to watching the woman in turn.

She made a rather humorous remark on being called upon, particularly when they had only met not so long ago. The statement warranted a minor grunt of a chuckle, as the wolf continually watched the creature before him sort through each individual article. Each time she'd gander back at him, the wolf simply remained the same as he had before, watching ever so curiously as he tried to gauge the woman in front of him. "Others would agree with your wily advances with a man at your door... but here we are." He veritably remarked with an innate shrug shown to her, his expression still plain as he watched the woman continue her gradual perusal.

Finally, she looked to pick out a robe to wear, so when she moved on to the undergarments, the wolf's eyes somewhat narrowed but remained impassive still. "Favors a commodity from your time then? I've only ever known them to be bargaining chips in my time." Although that statement wasn't entirely true either, he just didn't want to give the woman a wrong impression. Whoever, or whatever, she was he felt wary about, and when his instincts told him that much, well then Rickter wasn't one to simply overlook them. Around her he knew he had to be guarded, and careful, otherwise, she might see a fault somewhere in him she could use. Rickter didn't want to risk that at all, hence his reason for disregarding Telion when she'd been mentioned earlier.

Watching as she inspected each piece of clothing, it was clear she quite enjoyed the attention she garnered from him. Rickter could only wonder if she knew his real intentions, or if she quickly believed he held only a small interest in her own being. Not that he wouldn't have of course, as he'd observed earlier, the figure of whoever she was before this entity took over was quite the looker. She would've certainly garnered Rickter's other interests, was he not aware of the fact that her body was without a pulse. Still, the comment she had made, both about the body and her own personal experience, did manage to chip away at Rickter's stern expression. With a peak in his eyebrows, the wolf admittedly cracked a slight smile, rather amused by the woman before him, and the proposition she had decidedly teased him with.

Or was it a tease? Part of him wondered if this was her game, misdirection was quite a handy weapon to have after all. "I'm not sure you could handle me, He remarked a little lightly, almost pained by the chuckles he withheld, "besides I've never had a taste for cadavers. Even if you could afford me." He coyly remarked with a bit of a lean forward finally, an elbow rested on the table as he still looked to the semi-dressed woman with intrigue. "Although I'll admit, even I'm not in the best condition to perform... Not at the moment anyway." So that led to the real purpose of his visit here, and ultimately, what he'd hoped to learn from this curiosity before him.

"I'm here because I want to know you." He finally answered her inquiry, still quiet as he watched her where she stood. "What you are, who you are, and where you came from. Since my squad had the pleasure of retrieving you." Although pleasure was a loose term in that regard, as Rickter wasn't even really the one who undid the seal. Nevertheless, he wanted to learn as much as he could about this woman, and what exactly happened to have caused her to be sealed away within that device.

[Lyra]

He is overly obvious, Lyra thought as she moved to the bed where her robes lay, But I do not dislike that.

The questions he asked seemed simple and straight forward pokes at her past, who she was, where she came from. She did not respond to any of the remarks, however, but took her time pulling on the robles and carefully tying the gold sash at her waist. Her fingers worked steadily, with practiced ease as she completed the last knot and folded the fabric in on itself, smoothing it out so that there were no creases before she turned to face Ricky.

The robes were dark black, well fitted at the waist and shoulders while falling loosely past her elbows and around her legs. The golden trim almost shined, and the sash itself was like spun gold thread. Beside the bed was a small table, on which was a mirror that Lyra now held up before herself. She brushed a few strands of hair from her face, examining a few spots along her hairline that were bit paler than the rest.

"You are quite bold, I will give you that." Through the mirror Lyra could see Ricky where he sat, and she looked at him idly as she fussed with her hair a bit more, "You might be surprised just what you enjoy, were you to give yourself a chance."

The music of the world opened to Lyra's senses as she tapped into the power of her rune. She focused on Ricky, tasting his melody once more as she began to massage the tones. She pressed down on sensations of suspicion and doubt, bringing out notes of ease, confidence, and pride so that they sang louder than any other.

Lyra did not immediately respond to Ricky's words, her hands still adjusting her hair this way and that, frowning from time to time as she seemed unable to get the look she desired. Finally, she set the Mirror down and rested herself on the edge of the bed. Pulling the long dark locks over one shoulder Lyra began the tiresome process of trading, using slow and careful movements as her fingers felt just a bit clumsy at this act.

"You wish to know me?" she asked, genuine amusement coloring her voice, "La'femet al finor. You are several centuries too young for such knowledge."

Is it me he wishes to know, Lyra wondered idly, Or does he perhaps wish to know what threat I pose?

With a bare thought, Lyra shifted the melodies, lowering the sounds of confidence and tuning doubt. A cold note rose above the rest as she spoke, uncertainty with a trace of foreboding.

"I am what you fear in the dark. I am the last breath before death. I am the silence between words. I am the whisper of instinct that tells you to run." She let the melody rise, pressing down confidence, pride, anger. She left only those dark thoughts, concern, uncertainty, worry, doubt, and fear. With a breath she let them mix together, a combination which brings with it a chill in the blood and a shiver up the spine. Her hands continued to move, gold eyes staring at Ricky unblinkingly. She did not smile, nor frown.

The symphony lasted only a moment before it shattered. Lyra completed her braid, and she looked away, releasing her hold on the melodies and letting the music free. She fanned the flames of resolve and determination, like adding air to low burning coals to extinguish the chill that the other notes may have brought.

"Or so I once was." Tossing the finished braid over her shoulder rested her weight back on one arm on the bed, using the other to idly play with the gold trim of her collar, "And you? Who and WHAT are you?"

[Rickter]

That suspicious part of Rickter still lingered in him, speculating at how observant and calculating the entity was before him. He knew it wasn't going to be easy to get the kind of answers he wanted, which would've been direct and upfront about what he asked. Then again it was also possible what she'd tell him would account for who she used to be, in which in that case, the questionable threat he may have figured as likely posed no such threat anymore. Still, Rickter knew undoubtedly that this woman liked to play games, games of the mind more or less, to which he figured he'd simply adapt once he'd grasped at the concept. "I'm just upfront and straightforward." He bluffed for a remark as he retorted back to the woman, noting how thorough she had been with putting on the robe in front of her.

He might be surprised? If there was one thing Rickter hated, it was always the possibility of a surprise. Such was the reason why he always looked ahead, planning as far as he could into the immediate future, and determining what his next move should be when a situation posed a credible risk. "Maybe one day, Smoke-walker, we'll see..." Admittedly he would've liked to test that idea, see if this creature really was so experienced in matters of the flesh or not. Though that would depend on if she could ever maintain her own corporeal form, which was something the wolf hadn't seen her do honestly, since she required inanimate bodies for her to get around so well.

While he wasn't aware of the fact she could openly influence the mood of others, it was plainly obvious what sort of vibe his own aura put out in turn. A symphony of careful thoughts and guarded words, hidden behind intentions of curiosity and understanding would be heard. These subtle tones that lingered beneath an arrangement of uncertainty, or perhaps fear even, that implied something innate and primal slept soundly beneath the surface of the wolf's symphony. He watched her still even then, his blue eyes never leaving the woman as she started braiding in her hair. When she finally came to answer him, he felt a bit of a shift in the air then, not innately but rather subtly as though the mood itself deterred.

There was something about her tone that felt dark, dangerous even, and yet somehow all the more exciting to behold. Like the sensations that tickled the skin, almost like the moment Rickter experienced the release from her prison before. Even now, in this other form, she still smelt of overly ripened fruit with a hint of decay to it. The charge from before though? Hardly present in comparison now, and yet still the levity of her words weighed something heavy on his very spirit. Feeling the array of swirling emotions toiled within her words, Rickter admittedly leaned back a little more perplexed as of then. Genuinely he felt overtly concerned in a manner for safety, not because of the threat she generated herself as now, but as to what she used to be and what she could gradually become again...

"Poetic..." Was his only remark as he stared at her, hiding every slight emotion that swirled within him with narrowed eyes. This... He questioned if these inclinations, these feelings, instilled within him might have had something to do with her. It was a theory he wasn't entirely sure on, but granted he almost knelt to this woman at their first encounter, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility to be sure. He even thought her a wicked Goddess at that moment, if not a malevolent spirit of some kind, before realizing she was neither of those things entirely. Well, not entirely. What she was remained to be seen on his behalf, and yet it was also her questions that led him to realize another important fact.

She wasn't of this world, at least not the current world he knew. She'd asked him not just who, but what, he was after finishing her braid in turn. When her golden eyes were fixed on him, the wolf simply averted his gaze to the table between them. Who was he? That much was simple and straightforward, as Rickter was hardly anybody of credible importance within the city. "I only grew up with the name Rickter," he offered her a simple truth to be sure, keeping even the unimportant details to himself when he did, "grew up a fisher in the Low-City until I became a freelancer."

He wondered if she even understood what any of that meant, aside from the fisher aspect in general, since that was a trade many likely had even in her time. The freelancer part of that answer, however, he waited to see if she'd confirm his lingering suspicion. He knew though what she meant with the what he was part of. Truthfully not even he knew how to answer that best, not that he was even inclined to answer it, to begin with. The result lead to the both of them staring again, long and hard, as blue eyes avoided direct confrontation with the golden ones found upon him. Inadvertently he realized he wasn't going to be able to shrug it off, not when this woman clearly favored possessing knowledge the way she did. "Consider me a half-breed if you must." He finally remarked with a spiteful look away, clearly bitter about the heritage he knew so very little about.

[Lyra]

As Rickter talked Lyra adjusted herself on the bed, pulling her legs up beneath he rand all but lounging on the bed. She sat propped up on one elbow, absently examining the nails of her other hand with an air of disinterest. Despite the display, however, she listened intently. The man had masked his expression well, but he could not silence his own melodies. She heard it, the faint traces of fear that flickered despite her removing her influence. Uncertainty, doubt that lingered, but all was edged by the oddest sense of... curiosity? That was the only way she could describe it. That seemed odd to Lyra somehow.

When he finished Lyra waved a hand, smiling as if at a joke only she understood.

"Worry you not little one. In my eyes all of you are half-breeds. The true lines have long since died out." At that she grimaced, "I would say it is disgusting, but animals will breed as is their nature."

That thought made Lyra wonder if it was true. Were all the true lines of the Hytori now dust? What of the Giants? The Orkhan still thrived it seems, but their kind were closer to beasts than sapient creatures. Put two in a cave with a bed of straw and twelve will come in the following season. She grew contemplative then, but banished further musings with a shake of her head.

"Rickter is an odd name." she said at last, tilting her head slightly to consider the man before her, "Tell me, halfling. What beast did your mother mix with?"

Once more the melodies called out, and Lyra reached forward with her influenced to sooth the agitation and anger that might arise from an obvious provocation. She was genuinely curious. Some of the things she had seen... they were so odd that she could not fathom how they had come to be since her imprisonment. This one clearly had human blood, a fact that made Lyra want to curl her lip in disdain. What could be more shameful than to be mixed with a human? She wanted to know.

Smiling reassuringly she strummed the notes of comfort and reassurance, calling to Ricky through the melodies to talk freely. She was a monster, a beast like him. He could trust her with this. A beast knew his kin when he met them.

[Rickter]

Ironically the remark the woman gave to him was one that further confirmed his suspicions, as Rickter knew well now that she was ancient enough to be from the 'Old World' as it were. Much about that time had been lost to the ages, and without it, many simply went on about their lives as though it no longer mattered. Truth be told much of the world was pretty fucked up still, though Rickter hadn't the misfortune of heading out to see it. Out there parts of the world still suffered from the backlash that was the Sundering, while the cause of it alone remained up for debate among many of the scholars. Though that much was all Rickter knew, for history had never been anything of interest to him.

Now though with this unusual precursor from that time before him, Rickter couldn't help but wonder what the old world was really like. "Guess we're all animals in some ways." The wolf lightly reasoned with a lofty amount of consideration, clearly contemplative of the woman before him as she eased herself onto her bed to relax. There was just so much to her, so much about her even, that Rickter found himself wanting to know more of... yet at the same time, he couldn't deny the lingering hesitation in his gut. It was when she inquired about his mother, that the wolf's expression loosened to show a bit of surprise in turn. How she asked the question... there was the questionable implication that he felt drawn to make, but even then Rickter knew it wasn't without true intent or malice. It was simply the demeanor of this figure in front of him, one whose attitude was far more tenacious than she let on.

Huh, this bitch... He started to regard her in his mind while he pondered the question, simply because he hadn't any idea how to answer it in turn. Which beast did she interlope with? From what he'd been told the father remained the unknown quantity of his birth, his actual birth, while the mother herself was the one new to the fold. When Rickter had finally worked up the balls to ask, Madame Zirnomei made it clear that she hadn't the slightest idea who his parents were. But the mother who birthed him was Rathari, that much she knew from what little time they did share together. So that begged the question that if his mother was the beast, then did that make his father the human in this equation?

"She was the beast in your case." He finally came to answer bluntly still with a heavily thoughtful expression. "From what I know, Rathari are beast folk able to turn into animals. Hers must've been a..." He realized he'd gotten off track here, and that he'd almost revealed a bit about himself he didn't want to. He shook his head regardless, looking back to the woman in turn. "Do you even have a name Smoke-walker? Any memories of the world you left behind?" He thought to inquire quickly as to redirect the subject entirely, more or less to hopefully avoid answering more questions related to his being and his own history.

[Lyra]

Lyra raised an eyebrow, "Rathari?"

It was an odd name for a race, though as she thought about it Lyra had noticed a number of... unusual sorts. Animals that walked upright bearing the heads of bears or rabbits, while speaking the tongue of man. Were these the Rathari? The questions made Lyra look at Rickter with more interest. He appeared human, after all. Was he hiding the animal inside? And if so, what exactly was that creature?

She blinked in surprise as she finally noticed the title the boy kept referring to her has. It made her frown, distaste coloring her expression before it was quickly masked. For a short while, she seemed to ponder his question, eyes scanning the ceiling.

"Nothing at all." she said simply, glancing at Rickter and smiling once more. Too obvious, too straight forward. He wanted to know things that he needn't learn, though a part of Lyra was tempted to tell him. What would he say? What would his reaction be? How would his song change? She almost continued, but a sudden shudder in her mind made her pause. Her thoughts had turned back to the past, examining her memories to find one that might be appropriate, and immediately fell into the void of one of the many many holes in her recollection. The smile slipped slightly, but Lyra fixed it back in place.

"Your mother was the beast?" The question was laced with power, pulling and tugging at the strings of the harp in Ricky's melody, begging for an answer, curiosity, a desire to share. Lyra waved an absent hand as if dismissing the claim outright, "These Rathari, quite curious creatures I will admit, but what you mix with seems to be human." the smile morphed into a sneer, "That seems the greater shame, not whatever animal lays claim to your blood."

The holes were growing worse Lyra realized. When she had first been released there had been some things missing, fuzziness and blurred recollections here and there, but ever since her powers began to fade the holes grew bigger and more numerous. It was like something was taking those memories from her, pulling at the threads that held together her very soul. It felt... Unnerving, and Lyra tried not to think on it more than she had to.