Eve thought for a moment, head tilting. She hadn't actually lost anyone she cared about yet - she couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of grief Fleur must be feeling. With a short pause, the crow leaned down to preen the fur on Fleur's head. "I'm sorry," she said. "She sounds a bit like a butthole. Are you gone from her now?" She glanced at the tiara for a moment, resisting the temptations of a shiny as she tilted her head again. "You could revive it." table code © rasta 2015

@Fleur

There was a strange sensation on her head, gentle. Familiar. Preening, Florence had called it. Fleur's eyes slipped closed, leaning back into the gesture, huffing out a breathy laugh. "That's a. Good. Way to. Describe her," the skunk admitted, cracking one eye open to flash an amused grin towards the bird perched on her back. "I am. Gone. For now. I can't..." The grin was lost in a grimace, anger making her features crease and her eyes darken. "I can't. Let her. Do this. To any-one else."

The thought of some other innocent newborn being lured away, trained so brutally as not to recognize kindness when they saw it, made her stomach churn. "She needs. To be. Stopped." Clear claws scraped across the ground, and Fleur grumbled out a bark of a laugh, lifting the paw to examine its scarred pad, brutalized by weeks spent training. "Ironic. She tried. To. Make me. A weapon. I guess. She. Succeeded."

And then the tiny black ball of oil-slick feathers was speaking again, and the merryman stilled, raising her head to peer up at the crown, incredulous. "Revive. It? He's dead. How can. I. Revive it?" It sounded too good to be true - what was dead was dead. Wasn't it?

©sanctuare-2k15

@Eve

""It's not a proper revivial, I suppose," said the crow after a few moments of consideration. "But it'll be like having him around again, just with half of you mixed into it." She tilted her head. "Not really a revival at all, is it?" Eve sounded apologetic, probably frowning if she could. She glanced down at the river, briefly. "I don't know. It might help you get over the grief." Eve blinked a little and nudged Fleur's head. "What's this girl's name again?" table code © rasta 2015

@Fleur

Fleur stayed silent, only the soft hiss of breath whistling through crystallized jaws keeping her grounded. The lumbering skunk wasn't prone to self-inspection, had never had the time or need to; it was unfamiliar and painful, and much, much too revealing. But she did it anyway, finally letting out an exhausted grunt, front legs slowly sliding forwards, leaving her stretched out on the cold stone ground. "Is that. Right? To bring. Him back. Just for me? For my. Grief?" She lifted a paw to scrape over her grimacing snout, still innately uncomfortable with anything close to this level of emotion - but it was comforting, in a way, to know Diamondfang hadn't beaten the possibility out of her.

"It's my. Fault. He's dead. Couldn't. Find him. In time," she murmured, eyelids drooping in exhaustion. "If I. Had been. With him. Could've. Protected him. From anything." The paw slipped from her face to drop back to the ground gracelessly, claws clicking against the floor. "What if. He doesn't. Remember me?"

Fleur's voice dropped down to a miserable whisper, baring her teeth at nothing, at the world, at herself for being so close to completely breaking down. "What if he does?" There was a nudge to her head, and the skunk refocused, twisting her head enough to watch Eve out of one eye, gemstone teeth hidden away once more, gaze darkened by anger and fear.

"Fang. But like. I said. My name is. Short for. Something? Hers is. Too. Diamondfang." The monicker was spat out like it fouled her mouth to speak it, and one of the assassin's ears flicked in distaste. "There are. Others. But I. Do not. Know. If they. Knew what. She was doing." She glanced away, tone going even and deadened. "If they did. I will. Kill them too."

©sanctuare-2k15

@Eve