Aurore Devareaux

"tis a trut'....dis land don' belong to no Sooty Berds...." Papillion moved closer, a water color of calico cladding. Hand still extended, it came to rest on scarred cheek; the amber of her eyes seeming to riffle and spark in amusement to his statement.

Amber sights fell to where disruption of fenceline occured. First hands of sun touched, but far lighter than her own; followed by crown of pale colored hair. A knowing smile graced the lips of toffee tinctured porcelin face as visage of calm was offered to wayward rabbit. Hand extended with invitation...

Papillion sat with brightly colored skirts flared about where she knelt. Sunlight stroked mocha skin with sensual caress, creating dreamscape quality within her proximity to the shade that lay around her. Sharp amber eyes centered upon fenceline and those about her that lent to task were not given second thought. This is where she was told to wait, this is where the one desired would crossover and Destiny would take its' want to be fulfilled. Smallish stirring unseen produced a nod of satisfaction, and she rose to slender hiegth and petit stature; waiting for lapin to bound over. A song of ancient homelands entertwined with laborer's motions, blending with sweet serenade of native avian accompniments.

Aurore froze at underbrush disturbance, crouching low by instinct. She considered eased retreat, retrace of passage from whence she came. Turning cautiously, she glimpsed the paddock in near distance...and saw that Noir now stood alone; quite curious of her general area. Deep breath was taken and released. Edward Solley moved mindful of nature's betrayals, closing pattern and drawing figurative noose a little snugger. Although not in sight, he knew Sabastian echoed his actions from the other side. A loppsided smile traced the Welshman's lips as he considered clever rabbit hidden in the thickets.... Over and Under awaited his whim.

Cautiously, she continued forward, eyes trained of chestnut coloration and ears waiting to capture any further anomoly. Far bank was gained, care taken to avoid marring of adornment. As incline was conquered, peripheral vision picked another disturbance to lush greens and spinning on ball of feet, her eyes fell full upon origin's keeper. Noir's delicate pitch of ears had swiviled to first call, the second brought noble head about to stare into the treeline. Attentive companion paused in curry attentions to follow tragectory of Noir's interest...comb was dropped forgotten. Dauphin gave soundless gesture to one standing near Cottage rear wall; wide circle was traced to water way and embankment opposit.

Fleeting glance was thrown to Brother's protective nearness, and nothing more than word of alarm would bring him near...But, Aurore hesitated in doing so. Tenative step forward was taken, then another, raising water level to mid calf and bringing into clarity wayward mount who's call was insistant to party unknown.

The sooth of stream caress and smooth pebble bottom underfoot gave some comfort to the storm which she bound to inward terrains. Though carriage was proud, the discoloration and swell of tender eye flesh betrayed overall coup. Those who roamed compound encompassment gave wide berth to her wanderings, but kept watchful view to where they took her. Aurore's mind was numbed turmoil, no options coming forth to quell the angst; no desire for guessing at Fate's cruel spread of hand. She was not unawares of the World's turning...Just apathetic to its' course. A quickened rousing of anger rose forth at the injustice and separation deemed fit by Mari's men and with that anger, another salt tear fell to the fresh water's pooling ankles placement. Again mental faculties reclaimed numb desire and deepened olive eyes fell entranced to the dance of light and shadow on aqua surface. Dull roar of mind's eye drifting without direction then suddenly brought to keen awareness with equine address. Senses reached out to decipher sounds contradictory proxy to the paddock behind, and cautious step was taken by instinct's command. Shrouding of Blanc et Rouge were gathered a degree higher to prevent hindrance and quick glance was thrown over shoulder to paddock's standing. Another step in reverse and water's level retreated to a lower hold....And she froze. Break of color scheme at near, far tree drew her attention full with raptor's focus...

She had managed brave face to those present; had further managed non affected carriage as home was entered and stairway ventured upwards. As corridor was traversed, focus was kept forward; no acknowledgement given to first chamber passing. Was this not the place where ghosts dwelled and held court; much as the chamber at far end that used to be that of her own possession? Neither would be given thought, neither the validity of existence nor power of stirring...Said chambers would be ignored. Chosen refuge was taken in closest Sibling's quarters and comfort taken in the scents that gave designation of true owner. Grand bed had been taken and nestled deeply into; the flow of tears wetting treasured damask. No tallow was given life, the darkness was safety...The darkness a barrier of fortitude. Knees drawn close, lithe formed into small protective render as the emptiness gained full impact. Deaf ears offered no hearing to the soft step of Guardian's proximity beyond portal's stance. Gave no focus to its' hesitant open and closure sometime later as chamber's true ruler arrived home at last. He said nary a word, but approached quietly with slight hesitation and darkness did well to conceal heavy concern decorating lupine visage. Boots were given dismissal and thick ticking mounted with effort of little disturbance. And history repeated itself, as history has been known to do. Ritual of comfort in guise of Dauphin gathering Dauphine close as tears blotched linen cloth and arms encircled gently. Still no words dared the heavy still, for such would seem sacrilege to present and past. Nevertheless, within the byways of mental windings, there existed a hushed purvey of philosophy so well given as mantra to Beggar Prince and its' claim would not be denied; nor its demand ignored in claims. The Past is dead; the Future an uncertaintyand All that can truly be counted upon, is the Now....

Last rise and fall, last bend was rounded, archway and heavy gate came to view. Small band had made destination after long progress from soon pronounced ashen halls to wilds solitude. Those keeping watch, studied solem parade and removed transitory portal barrier to allow entrance. The last of pilgrimage passed through without word and guards looked after questioningly. Winding trail gave way to clearing and only a few circled firepit, glancing up to those newly arrived.

It would be a long way's travel beyond the edges of The Port to the confines of the Cottage. A long ride into the darkening day, into the sorrow of the night and with each sway of mount's movement, Aurore felt the conjured polish wearing off and the pain gain stregnth. Her brow became clouded with aggitation at the audacity shown by the two men tending Mari. Their arrogance, their authoritive airs...their treatment of her as if she were a simpleton. Proud carriage was loosing ground to the grief which begged its' due and she began to believe that perhaps such should be allowed... Perhaps, she would remain in the shelter of Cottage and never leave its' grounds again...

turkey with a light gravy and mushrooms; brown rice seasoned with a bit of garlic and a smatter of herbs....

Luna

One wagon and fifteen mounts sat in parade rest beyond the shadow of maison's touch. At wheeled vehicle's rear, Noir tossed regal head with impatience to current arrangement, tugging at teather securly placed on stake. Company kept silent as she threaded through their midst, what was felt inwardly so carefully burried. One glance was cast to upper floor glow, and the chamber that eminatted it before stirrup was used to gain seat. As the last stragglers came to same positioning, Christophe rode the line as if inspecting troups on campaigne. Sean walked equine comrade close to where she sat, placed a comforting hand over where her's rested then moved on. One diamond of salt composition spiraled to break on linen adornments... A low whistle was cast to the sunset... Cavalcade began forward motion.

croissant

Sean gave Reiley a good looking over, a minute trace of smile traversing squared facial wrought. "Are ye daft man?....Where ye be gettin' all o' flame an' hellfire?" Good natured chuckle rolled forth as he looked upon the two, "T'underin' Jayz...If ye would be one to shut yer bleedin' gob an' open yer ears...." Sean rolled his eyes heavenward, "Mother Mary an' all the angels..." The Irishman turned away, re-entering the hallway, pausing at the halfpoint, he called back overshoulder, "Yer both a right gran' bit o' work...Runnin' abou' an' rattlin' like a couple o' aul biddies...." He moved onward to the landing, pausing again... "Le Flambeau Gran' ain' bein' set wit' a soul, livin' nor dead, in these walls..."

March's sudden flurry of movement disrupted Le Cour's members much as a covey of quail stirred by mongrel's restless charge in high grass field. Sean Roberts was roused from kitchen's encompassment with the thunder of buckled shoe assult upon stairwall and hall above. Quite cassual by nature, he followed silence disturbance nonchalantly by training an ear to the ruckus then retracing the path taken. Bedchamber was gained, its' door hanging agape and the large Irishman leaned in much the same manner as Frenchman before him, watching the semi-controled chaos of English brewing. It was almost amusing to him in some lights...But, not quite. As March motioned to Sterling's repose, Sean's calm lilt sounded to the company within. "Now, now Boyos....Tis an odd bit inna works to me own eyes. So odd it tis, tha' I must be one to ask what ye fellahs be all abou'....." He gazed at one then almost lazily to the other. "An' ye....." gesture was waved towards Reilley...." Yer from the Aul' Sod...an' tis a hard t'ing fer meself to imagine yer dear aul Mum did'na teach ye abou' rilein' the Dead...."

As Christophe made to depart on actions requested, the sounding of her voice paused intent. "I wish this place burned to the ground when it is truly empty as the tomb it now exemplifies..." Query washed his features. "Only when it is empty...No good has ever come from this structure. The island needs be cleared of its' blight. It calls Le Mort to its' heart and is corrupt at its' core."

Christophe regarded her silently, knowing that recent altercation and after effect would not go un-noticed. What lay unvoiced translated to far more than could be imagined by most, when she moved towards stair's slanted passage downward, he naturally fell into step behind. When the open air of outerworld was achieved, Aurore ceased stride and faced the shadow that lay in wake. With effort of control over the tempest of emotions tormenting current state of mind, she spoke in hushed tone. "I wish the Barb to be saddled..." Frenchman began to speak, but was belayed as hand was raised. "I have been informed, that though by all virtue, these holdings are in Devareaux possession, I have no power here..." Christophe's brow furrowed and tincture of anger rose in his eyes. Again the small hand was raised to belay words. "Gather the others....We are departing this house of ill omen...."

Again the olive pools centered on Medicine Man and lingered as if weighing the contents of his soul. They flicked away to where the bed dominated far wall briefly, the hardness of her expression melted a degree then returned to full force as they returned to Irishman. Aurore said nothing more as chamber portal was achieved and opened. In corridor's dim, Christophe straightened stance with her sudden appearence.

mortal coil

A flicker of distrust seated in soul's windows, "You are in my home, Monsieur Reilley...I caution you not to play dangerous games under my roof. The consequences of such actions might prove quite foul." Aurore drew back a pace and turned for chamber door.

snuffed

Aurore drew closer, her attention never wavering from other's expression, "You lie, Monsieur..."

weary

Her eyes narrowed a degree and a hint of suspician tainted her expression. "Locked in....?" Aurore turned to scrutinze the Medicine Man's bearing. A defient air wove about Aurore's posturing as she watched him quite closely. "Explain youself, s'il vous plait....And be wise to what you offer in verbose."