A Visitor in the Night

A Visitor in the Night
Date of Scene:	20 February 2013
Location:	The Old Kingdom - Forgotten Forest - Ruins
Synopsis:	Faruja comes to call upon Hati at her 'residence', and the two have a 'heart to heart' over unicorn stew.
Cast of Characters:	Faruja Senra, Hati

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Hati has posed:
Unlike the sprawling cities in the World of Ruin, this place has a strange feel to it. It has that same, otherworldly quality that seems to come with all the realms of Phantasia. There are few secrets among those loose lipped peasants who call these vast expanses their homes. A few townsfolk seem wary of outsiders, but most have gotten used to the strange creatures that come and go. Creatures like Faruja might not even be unusual to some of them. Needless to say, it's easy enough to find directions to the haunted woods. Even the most stalwart looking of the village's men seems wary, though. There are warnings about ghosts and rumors that anyone who goes in hasn't returned. Then again, if no one returned, where do the rumors come from?

It isn't too far to travel, following the main path through the woods until there is a crossroads. The wooden sign that points onward to the next village, also has an arrow that points down another way, with the name of the town worn away by time. It's like looking between light and darkness by spying those two paths. One is clear, with light coming through the trees. The other is dark, with cobwebs and crooked, angry looking trees and shadows that seem to only get darker the more you stray away from the light.

The wind seems to grow colder here, although it might just be a trick of the mind. It whistles between those thickly woven branches, the gnarled roots of trees reaching out to catch at feet of unwary travelers. There are signs of travelers who have turned back - dropped packs left to weather. Clearly, few are brave enough to make the trek into this part of the woods. Further still, the wind begins to howl in the trees. It sounds like voices, musical notes followed by whispers. Shadows move deeper into the trees. No wonder people think this place is haunted.

Faruja Senra has posed:
As Faruja leaves the village, the question remains: is it mere superstition, or true cause for worry? His own world, and Ivalice, has it's share of spirits. Indeed, putting to rest violently such beings that can't be persuaded otherwise is often a task falling to a Templar. Thus, it's with more preparedness and curiousity that the ratling leaves the village than outright nervousness or apprehension. He can handle a few ghosts.

This is all, of course, before he actually gets into the woods. Combined with the odd sensation of the world at large, the cold wind, and the curious interplay of light path and dark, the rat finds a foot sliding back. It gets scowled at, and bopped with his tail for such betrayal. Taking up his spear, for surely such a creepy looking place has wolves (of the non-Hati form) that would look upon him as a meal...if not far worse than that lurking within. It's a good thing too, as he starts of, roots and branches nipping at his heels. Once or twice he's forced to stab them away lest he trip or twist an ankle.

Worst of all is the musical whispers created amongst the dark trees. It puts a shiver through him, and the rat mutters low prayers of strength and courage. Stubborn like a proper Templar, he strides on proudly, spear soon shining to shed some light into the darkness ahead.

"Amen! No bunch of darkness-snared foliage nor whispering unquiet spirits shall cause me turn tail as a craven coward!"

Hati has posed:
The quiet of those ghostly whispers is occassionally interrupted by the hooting of an owl, followed by the rustling of wings against the dry leaves. Skitterings of small creatures can be heard, clearly not worried about the ghostly sounds around them. Many would have long ago turned back from this place, spooked by the sounds and by whatever creatures lurk in the darkness. There is a crunch of something moving, but each time that he stops, the sound stops, the strange footsteps echoing his own. The whole place just has that eerie feeling, but nothing comes from those darkened woods except the occassional passage of a squirrel or chipmunk.

After what seems like forever, but is probably a matter of minutes, the path gives way to moonlight upon distant grass. A clearing spreads out within the woods, likely man-made by the way that the trees end quite so abruptly. Beneath a layer of leaves and weeds, the telltale signs of an old road show through with cracked bits of cobblestone. Hints of frost cling to the ground, but no true snow brought from this winter's chill.

The ruined road leads towards a low fence made of stacked rocks, a small metal gate barring the way inside. Even at a distance, the sight of monuments and headstones are visible. Angelic creatures missing heads and arms, age-worn figures that have become little more than grotesque shapes. There are even a few small mosoleums here. The front gate is rusty, and the cemetary seems long ago abandoned. Whatever dead lay here must have been forgotten by time, or family. Even the newest of stone pillars is caked with dust and cobwebs, so much so that it would take some effort to clear them away to see a name.

Beyond the graveyard, though, there is what must have once been a small keep. The size of it suggests a guardpost on some major trade road, but with so many dead here, it suggests plague or war had come to seige this place, leaving no survivors. What is left of the castle is mostly rubble. The ramparts have fallen, one tower having cracked and crumbled over into little more than boulders. Some parts of the wall still remain, but the elements have begun to take back this place. The only thing that seems intact is a single tower. This must have been the central tower of the keep at one point, and it still stands, with parts of the wall clinging off at odd angles. The only sign of life in this entire place is a light in one of the windows a few floors up. It flickers like flame, a hint of smoke pluming out from what must be a chimney.

Faruja Senra has posed:
The first has the rat nearly jumping out of his skin, the darkness and old instincts from a time when nezumi were more rat than person causing him to turn and peer into the dark. After a moment, he calms, sighing. "'Tis merely an avian, Faruja."

The rat tries to ignore the footsteps. Every now and then, he'll swing his spear into the darkness. Nothing but leaves and ominous shadows!

The appearance of a graveyeard and keep in the distance lit by moonlight is a welcome sight. Standing before an angelic gravestone, he kneels, the rat praying in thanks for his safe passage through that frightening path! As well as for the souls interred here. From the looks of things, no holy person has seen to them in some time. He'll make a mental note to have that taken care of. He could name a few Squires who need the experience of this place, anyway!

Life! For all of the ruined grandure of the crumbling keep, it seems that someone yet lives here. What does a Holy Dragoon do in this situation?

Why, he does things properly. Hands held to his muzzle, he yells up to the window. "HAIL TO YE! MAYHAP A TEMPLAR MIGHT JOIN NEXT TO THY FIRE, FOR MY JOURNEY 'TWAS TIRESOME." It /is/ a long way up, so he uses his outside voice. Faruja isn't Hati, so he doesn't just leap up like a thief in the night.

Hati has posed:
There is no movement against that sliver of a window above, and no answer to the call that he makes. Not at first, anyways. There is a sound, though. Something moves down the stairs of the tower, and soon enough, a dark form is illuminated in the moonlight. With a low growl, a young doberman bares his teeth, protecting the passageway. Clearly, this beast isn't used to intruders. He doesn't attack, but he does stand his ground, snarling with a curled lip. This one might look somewhat familiar, though. The pups that the Shard Seekers had taken from Riku were about this age, and possibly some littermates of this one were amongst them.

Into the quiet still of the night, the dog barks, first once, then twice. His tail is tucked down, ears drawn back. But then, there is another sound from above as footsteps sound like bare feet on stone. "Garm. Shut it." Now /that/ is a familiar voice. The dog turns, tail wagging, immediately looking up to the girl who steps down towards the entryway. Hati is dressed hastily, with a coat pulled on over what looks like a pair of pajamas. Her arms are wrapped around her chest, rubbing at her arms as her breath catches in the air.

"Faruja?" Blink. Well, he had asked where she lived, but she hadn't actually expected him to come out all this way. With a shiver, "Come on in out of the cold. Garm, go on." She shoos at the dog, who is quick to go scrambling back up the stairs, with Hati quick in pursuit. Bare feet and cold stone do not go well.

The stairs leading down have long since collapsed, but the rest of the tower seems in good repair. Hati leads him past the first floor landing, which is locked tight. She moves up to the second floor and yanks a heavy wooden door open, and immediately the passageway is filled with warmth and light.

The best way to describe these small quarters would be: organized chaos. Everything has a place, there just happens to be a /lot/ of everything. There is an old closet with clothes hung up neatly, nestled next to an ornate bookshelf that must have been salvaged from the keep originally. Old tomes line the shelves, some with dusty, leather covers. A fire crackles in the fireplace, heating two small pots that hang from metal hooks above them. There is a plentiful stack of firewood, and the whole room has that glow that can only come from flame.

Elsewhere, almost every surface is covered with some collection of things. There is a drafting table with a repaired leg that is covered with drawings and writings, with scrolls and other papers stacked on the table next to it. There is an area where herbs are drying, with a mortar and pestle set there along with various vials and bottles. Along one wall is a pile of various weapons, mostly different sorts of daggers she must have used in the past before her current set. Some are quite damaged as if from great battles.

Against the far wall is a single twin-bed, covered in more quilts and blankets than anyone has a real need for. Apparently, the wolf isn't fond of the cold. There's a small dog bed next to it, but it doesn't look used. Instead, Garm hops right up into the pile of blankets, the young doberman re-claiming his spot as king of the mountain.

As the light touches Hati, it's clear the girl has a bad case of bed-head, with her hair unkempt. She quickly strips off the coat, hanging it onto a hook and then walking over towards the fire, rubbing bare arms. She's dressed in little more than a camisole and thin pajama pants, so the warmth spreads quickly. "I didn't think you'd actually come out here." She'd obviously been sleeping before he'd come, if the state of affairs is any suggestion.

Faruja Senra has posed:
And then Faruja is faced with a cute ball of fierceness. It immediately draws his mind to the pups back at HQ. Slowly, the rat kneels, hands up before him with palms out. He doesn't take any movements, merely kneeling.

"Shhh, shhh little one. I shan't harm thee, or thy Master." The rat promises, before another figure calls out. That has him grinning.

"Ahh, good 'eve Hati! Lord bless, forgive me, that I would cease thy slumber." A short bow, and the rat is following, not wanting the lightly dressed wolfess to freeze! Plus, he too is rather cold. Soon enough, they're up the stairs.

Which Faruja takes plenty of time to look as they travel. Overall, he looks impressed. If one's going to scavenge a place, Hati sure has chosen a good one!

Once into the light, the ratling peers about. old weapons, tomes, fire wood, blessed /warmth/ herbs...it's quite comfy, and looks to be an alchemist-thief-wolf's dream really. Not to mention a drawing able. Even more evidence as to who gave him those drawings!

And Hati is quite cute in her night clothes! For all of her fierceness, he has a bit of a time imagining her as that large werewolf right now. A stray thought to give her a hug, as though she were Maira, strikes him before being tossed away. She'd likely claw his face for it.

"Of course I would, Hati. Such a mystery, you are, at times! How could I turn down the opportunity to see just where the great and powerful Huntress lays her head? And I must say, being the Lady of a Keep was the last thought that touched my head! And quite fetching, might I add, in thy manner of dress." The rat winks, flicking his tail in the general direction of her bed-hair. A hand covers his muzzle, barely stifling his snicker.

But he's not a jerk. "Shall I offer thee a comb, Hati? You look well. And quite the protector you have here." Gently, he'd offer a hand over to Garm to sniff atop that pile of blankets.

Hati has posed:
Who knows how the wolf might react to such a display of affection, but since the mouse doens't risk to chance it, he'll never know. Instead, she crouches at the fireside, lifting the top off of the smaller pot to mix at it. "As long as you aren't here for more burn ointment already. It takes a few days to brew up and the ingredients aren't exactly easy to find. So you'll have to make that jar last for a bit." Her voice is a bit sleepy, but not unsympathetic. The wolf did have a sneaking suspicion that he uses the ointment on those lingering bits of damaged skin, which is probably part of the reason she goes out of her way to craft it.

"Are you hungry?" She asks, lifting the lid off of the second pot. This time the room fills with a scent of meat and vegetables in some sort of flavorful stew. "It's leftovers, but the longer it cooks the better the flavor." She grabs up a bowl without waiting for an answer and ladels some of the brown stew into it. The bowl, and the spoon she plunks into it are both carved out of wood. She replaces the lid, then puts the bowl down on a little endtable next to the bed, motioning him to take a seat.

For her own part, Hati stretches herself out, standing on tip-toes. For all that she might be quite fierce in other circumstances, right now... she just looks young. "Keep teasing me and you won't be invited back again. I'm sure you don't look like prince charming when you get woken up in the middle of the night, either." She runs a hand through her hair, which doesn't help much, other than shifting around some of the bed-head.

She leaves him to the spot on the bed, moving over to sit next to her drafting table, shuffling a few papers around, including a few that look distinctly mouselike. Garm looks over at the offered hand, sniffs at it, then licks once before looking up at Faruja with that dog look that can easily be read as: treats? "He's mostly harmless." Hati explains, "He'll only bite you if you annoy me."

Faruja Senra has posed:
A hand goes to the rat's chest, head shaking. "Quite enough for now, thank you Hati. For once 'tis only my back that has suffered undue injury." Really, she should be proud! He's not an utter mess for once.

Sniff sniff. That pot top comes off, and the rat is over in a flash. His stomach even grumbles. His own bowl and utensils are taken up, the rat patiently waiting until Hati has her fair share.

"Ahh, how generous, thank you my friend. 'Tis heaven to my olfactory senses, and no doubt upon the tongue as well!" A moment or two later, and the rat is chowing down with gusto. Those woods worked up an appetite.

Ears fold. "Quite, quite. My apologies. Mayhap Ser Galvan is rubbing off on me. Thank you for the company, Hati." Perhaps an odd thing to say, but the rat was feeling somewhat lonely. He loved the Shard Seekers as kin, but the wolfess before him called to the rat in a way he can't understand. A craving for her presence, as different as she was from him.

D'aww, Garm! The dog gets a smile. "Good boy. Here." There's tasty, tasty beef jerky to be had for Garm, as the rat offers it to the canine.

"Have you ever thought of selling thy work? 'Tis not bad at all in my estimation." Faruja comments on the pictures, smiling. If she'd scoped out his room as of late, she'd notice those picture she gave him lovingly hung.

Hati has posed:
The wolf raises an eyebrow at him, as if half expecting that there might be more injuries he's just not telling her about. Afterall, he did have that tendency to get himself into trouble. "You're going to get yourself killed one of these days." She notes, ears ticking back ever so slightly. It's the only real sign that the idea of such a thing bothers her, and that she isn't just condemning his actions. There is real worry in those mismatched eyes, although she tries to keep it to herself.

"It's just stew." Hati shrugs, not elaborating on specifically what is in it, which might be a bad thing. Then again, she eats it, so it can't be anything too terrible, right? It is quite tasty, though, regardless of what the 'mystery meat' is. "But you're welcome to it. Can't say anything like what you're used to, but it's decent enough." Unlike her brother, she doesn't make everything with bacon.

The apology is shrugged off. Instead, Hati reaches for her celphone, which she waggles in his direction. "Hey, you tease me, turn about is fair play." She thumbs through, finding a particularly juicy looking photo of 'Fara' looking shy as she is held to 'Solva's chest. Yeah, she caught that moment. Just incase he has any ideas of snatching the phone, she snaps it shut and makes sure it's out of arm's reach.

Garm is quite content with the treat that is offered, his tail thumping the bed as he takes it from the mouse's fingers with gusto. Nom nom nom. The question about her drawings catches the wolf off-guard though. Her defensiveness drops a bit, looking down at one of the pages in front of her. "I've never really thought about it, no." She shrugs those mostly bare shoulders. "I draw mostly just so I know that I'll remember things." She rubs at the side of her head distractedly.

There are other drawings than those on her table. There are some up on the walls, too. A man in long, dark robes. A dair haired elf woman, and a girl who must be Katyna, except minus a few years.

Faruja Senra has posed:
At that raised eyebrow, he raises a clawed hand. "Templar's honor, Hati. 'Tis the only lasting thing since my last...encounter." Frown. The memories of the Airdome at Fluorgis are burnt into his mind.

The mention of getting killed gets a nod. "'Tis an honor, and some would say duty, of a Templar to give his life for Church and Faithful. However, despite all evidence, I /do/ try to ensure that day comes long into the future. 'Tis merely....bad luck."

Nor does Faruja seem to be complaining. He's had far worse, after all! "The humans have a saying about those whom beg not complaining about what one receives. And this is hardly the worst fare I have ever had. Once, one of my squad mates back in the army nearly killed me with her cooking." Shudder. Memories.

"At least 'tis naught but a pot of bacon."

Peeer. Oh Faram. Not the photos! EArs fold back, looking as though they're trying to flee down Faruja's back as he spies that photo of Salva and 'Fara'. His face is red as can be! Lunge! The phone is snatched away, and the rat lowers his head in shame. "...Oh, my pride, I do believe I shalll be picking up its pieces for weeks. Ahh, the price of charity." At least his dignity went to a good cause!

Ear-scritches are applied to Garm! Good boy.

A digit rubs his chin as he glances to those pictures along the walls. "Memories, hmm? I wish I had thy talent for art. Dancing is more my forte." A pause, and a head tilt.

"Thank you for the gifts, Hati. Mayhap I should show you my own art some time. Should a touch of dancing please you?"

Another moment, and he nods over to the picture of Katyna. "Long time acquainatance of Lady Redsvaren?"

Hati has posed:
Plucking up a pencil, Hati taps it against her chin idlely. She's too tired to really focus on anything, but there is this sudden urge to look busy. This is likely the first time she's had anyone here in her home before, and playing the part of entertainer makes her tail flick back and forth, the fur hanging down over the edge of the chair and swaying in front of her pawprint patterned pajama pants. They hang down, oversized and loose, leaving only her clawed toes visible where they sit against the stool.

"Well, you may see it as an honor and a duty. I think living is more important. If you live, you can always come back to fight another day for your 'Church and Faithful'." Her ears tuck back slightly, her other hand coming around to scratch at the scars beneath her camisole. They were the wounds that nearly took her life. "Besides, I would miss you if you died. So don't." This is said in a quieter tone of voice. There are relatively few people in this world that she can say this of, and perhaps after how much she'd gone out on a limb earlier, it's no real surprise that she would feel that way.

She hazards a look over, watching him eat, "Nah. No bacon. Just plain old unicorn stew." Yeah, you knew it had to be something, didn't you? Her own moment of embarassment passes when he starts to show his own. "I don't think you have that much to worry about, really. You're attractive as a man, and as a woman. It's nothing to be ashamed of." She shrugs, clearly not bothered either at the time, or now.

Pushing herself up, the wolf girl walks over towards the bed, shuffling her feet. She nudges at Garm, who gives her the puppy dog eyes. "Oh you have your own bed, use it for once." The dog eventually does get up, hopping over into his bed with a look of /absolute betrayal/. It passes quickly when Hati plucks out a bit of meat and tosses it at him, which he catches in his mouth. Two seconds, and he's back to happy puppy.

"I don't know if you do the sort of dancing I'm used to." She explains, leaning back against the wall to eat, folding her legs beneath herself. The wolf is sitting with barely a foot between the two of them, looking reasonably relaxed at the moment. Glancing up, she notices one of the drawings, and then shrugs. "Yeah. The three of us used to train together way back. Her, Morgan and me." Her clawed finger reaches up to tap the elf. "For a while, they were all I could remember. At least until Skoll showed up. Then it all started coming back." She taps at the side of her head and smirks. "The joys of memory charms."

Faruja Senra has posed:
Faruja's eye watches that tail sway. Sway sway sway. That single eye of his starts to droop. Swish swish...snort! He blinks a few times, shaking his head. He finally notices the pawprinted pajamas. Must...not...snicker. So cute!

The rat's muzzle opens, then shuts as he looks to those wounds. Her Father, perhaps? An urge to find the werewolf and gut him rises up in the rat, teeth briefly showing before he masters himself. If anyone, it's Hati's duty to take down the bastard. Who knows, though, maybe the rat will get lucky and rough him up a bit before notifying the wolfess and her brother.

A slow nod as the rat politely eats the stew. Nom. So delicious! "...Alright. Let us call it a compromise: I shall only give it if 'tis necessary for the wider world. The World of Ruin, and every world beyond needs every defender it can get against the encroaching threat of the Heartless. On my honor, Hati, I do swear before the Lord that I shall live. For you, and everyone I hold dear. 'Twould...I fear I have done you far too much heart as it stands. I shan't like to do so again." Faruja kneels, placing his spear on the ground, and solemnly crosses his chest. A promise, and one on his Faith. Knowing the rat, though, it'll only get him into /more/ trouble. Retreat isn't exactly in the Burmecian's playbook.

"U...unicorn, you say?" Peer. The rat glances at the soup warily. Pause. Nom. Nom nom. It's still tasty.

Faruja very nearly falls out of his seat at the compliment. His spoon flips in the air, and lands quite nicely atop his noggin. The Templar's forced to deal with a sudden nosebleed at the implications there, before he retrieves his spoon.

Somehow, he doesn't know how to feel about that. Plus, he remembers her words. Slowly, he manages a smile.

"Then mayhap next time I visit, I shall come to dust thy shelves and clean thy abode! Your very own maid." Replies the rat, quite red by now.

Despite the blush, Faruja looks comfortable himself. There was just something relaxing about the woman who was so free and unrestrained, unlike himself. His society full of rules, and hers? Seemingly so lax. That weapon of his is set aside in a convenient spot. There's no need for it here, but given the powers of the Heartless, it pays to be ready.

Ahh, dance! The Burmecian's ears unfold and waggle a touch enthusiastically. "Mayhap so! However, 'twould be a boon to learn! Hardly have I seen a society without its share of dance. Teach me, hmm? I...wish to learn more about you, Hat, and teach you of my own people." The rat admits, heart beating a little faster. He can't quite figure out /why/. Poor, foolish mouse.

"...Lady Albaste! My, my, my! To think that the three of you...Mmm. Friends. Good. Quite the trio, even given Lady Redsvaren's...ahh.../proclivities/." CLearly the rat doesn't approve of thievery.

"And Lady Albaste is a kind woman...elf. She showed me such in one of my weaker moments." There's a pure smile of happiness on the rat's face. To know that she has such good people warms his heart.

Snort. "Painful though it may be, 'tis necessary to reclaim thy memories. To lose a part of onesself...well, I suppose I see /why/ you would...however, it brought you far too close. An edge that I do not wish to see you drop from."

Hati has posed:
The wolf girl seems oblivious to his mement of weakness, not seeming to notice or care about how his eyes flick to her pajama pants. The girl clearly has some odd sort of fashion sense. Most of the time, she looks like some sort of modern teenager, with baggy cargo pants or jeans and hoodies, but there's always those strange little things, like the pajamas that sugggest that she's more of a girl than she lets on.

Hati looks up over her bowl of stew as he makes his proclaimation, and her response is a simple roll of her eyes. "Quit that." Setting the bowl to the side on one of the end tables, Hati leans down and reaches to touch his shoulder. "Listen. I don't need your pledge as a Templar. I just..." She lets out a sigh, drawing her hand back and then sitting back again on the bed, shaking her head. "Needless to say I'd be pretty pissed off at your god if you got ground into mouse-paste, and I don't think your clurgy could handle my tongue. I'd make their ears bleed." It's humor, trying to make light of a situation that /does/ bother her.

She watches his antics with the spoon, raising one eyebrow as a small smirk quirks her lips. "You know, the bunny was right. You do get quite flustered whenever a girl shows you any attention. Don't give me more excuses to torture you, poor mouse. It's amusing enough as it is." Clearly, her idea of 'torture' is making him fluster like this. "Besides, I like my home as it is, and I imagine the Templar is closer to the truth than the maid is." She cocks her head, "I could be wrong, though." Shrug.

When it comes to matters of dance, she smirks, "Not tonight, but maybe. There isn't exactly room enough to dance, here." Not without knocking something over, anyways. Her eyes wander, finding those pictures of Morgan as the mouse notes his own familiarity with her. "Haven't seen her a while. Not since her mentor was killed. It's good to know she's well, though."

Abandoning the stew by setting it down on the floor for Garm, she leans back against the pillows, bare feet coming to rest right near his legs. "So, what about you?" She's clearly turning the attention back onto him rather than going into her own foggy past too much. "How did a Burmecian end up with the Church of Glabados? So far as I understand, they aren't even part of your world, so that must have been a recent change."

Faruja Senra has posed:
Faruja takes a moment to ponder the girl beneath all of that fierceness and strength she's been forced to build up. He's glad for the glimpse, it's a rare thing indeed, the Burmecian finding himself feeling honored for it. At least the pattern suits her!

At the hand, the rat looks up, and slowly nods. "Yes, yes, I /do/ suppose that would be a problem. 'Twould be a shame to see one of the Sisters washing thy mouth out with soap! And becoming paste does not sound particularly pleasant. Worry not, Hati, I shall do my utmost to be cautious." The Templar, cautious? That'll be the day.

Bunny. Siiigh. "She is the absolute /worst/ tease that hath ever fallen before my eyes. I swear, she and Ser Galvan would be most fitting together. 'Tis bad enough with you, my silver-tongued friend! And...I am just not used to it. Time in the army left me with little time to pursue such things. Oh, Lord, I could hardly imagine the three of us within the same room...conscious at any rate. 'Twould be enough to cause me swoon." A pause.

"Mmm. You have not met him, have you? Should rectify that at some point. 'Twould be...interesting." Slowly, the rat smirks. Sweet, sweet vengeance.

Further teasing has him reaching out with his tail. Should she not move? Her nose shall be poked with the fluffy bit! "A Templar is what I am, dear wolf, just as the wild fills thy soul." A confident nod. His hands move as if flourishing his spear that's sitting over on the other a few feet away.

Peeer. The rat nods to the mention of space. "And far too late in the night. 'Twould be unseemly! However, I shall look forward to it. No doubt your people's dance is elegant and refined!"

Faruja shifts the chair he's taken to get closer to Hati and Garm both, tail soon settling between the pup's ears and petting the cute pup. Animal lover, this mouse!

"...Her mentor? A shame. Lady Albaste is a kind woman. That these worlds are so corrupt and blighted that good people must know such pain." A rare admission into his darker thoughts. He winces, glancing to Hati. If there was anyone he could trust with his desires, it was the wolf. The Burmecian relaxes a touch.

"Mmm, nor I since I first met her. Elusive woman...or mayhap a busy Templar. Send her a letter, Hati. Let her know you are well. 'Twould do her some good, I think. And yourself as well. Friends are precious."

Arms fold behind the rat's head, stew placed aside as he closes his eye. That tail of his sways gently, old memories coming back to him.

"'Tis something of a story, but one you deserve to hear. Back home, I was enrolled into the Burmecian Army, Aerial Corp alongside Arista. My family raised wyverns for the army, you see: small profession, the Corp was specialized and small as it was. I often, however, was given patrol duties in the poorer sections of Burmecia when our services were not needed."

The Burmecian pauses, taking out his hip flask. Taking a sip, he frowns. "I saw things that troubled me. Thieves preying on the lowest borne, starvation, suffering. My superiors ignored it. 'Not our duty', 'filthy peasants deserve it'. The usual things given by those whom never felt a day's hunger in their stomachs. I...was losing my way. Then I met the Sisters. A small group in the slums, preached much the same as the Church: the Lord's love, care for all people, charity to the poor. Everything the upper crust of Burmecian society ignored."

Sip. "I learned from them. They helped me keep my sanity in the face of corruption and the calousness I saw even in the country I loved. Then Alexandria came, with their Heartless and soldiers and Demon-Mages. My squad and I evacuated the Sisters, but...we were trapped. The Heartless came for us. I ordered the others to retreat, but..."

A clawed hand clenches the arm of the chair.

"Each of them gave their lives for me. Good nezumi that deserved life far more than I do. 'Twas my duty, as squad leader, to see them away safely." 'It should have been me' is plastered all over the rat's face.

After a moment's silence, he continues, dragging himself out of the horrors of his home's fall.

"The Heartless started to bite at me, and that damned Mage-doll...well..." He gestures to his bandaged face.

"The pain stole my senses. When I awoke, half blind and still smouldering, Lady Inquisitor Diamonde was standing above me. She told me where I was, and how they had found me. The Lord sent her to save me, Hati. Thus, I was honor-bound to return the debt I owed the Church. The more I learned...the more I was taught, the more I knew that what the Church preached was true. 'Twas the same as the Sisters. Thus, here we are."

Hati has posed:
Sticking her tongue out, the wolf shows her opinion on the idea of getting her mouth washed out with soap. Then, there is a flick of pink as it moves over one fang and hides again between her lips. "Heh. They'd have a time trying to catch me, first." As much as luck has not been on her side lately, this wolf is an elusive one, and it would be hard even for the Templar to capture her. She hasn't lived this long without being able to escape when authorities come looking.

Leaning back, the wolf's tail swishes slightly against her legs, that smirk still playing on her lips. "Yeah, but you see... there's different sorts of teasing. I think you're more used to the sort from our estemed Judge. The sort that is all play and is drawn out to see your reactions." Hati tilts her head, that quirk of a smile on the edge of her lips. "Silver tongue or no, you should know that I mean what I've said." She lifts those bare shoulders in a shrug again. He had already told her where his heart lies, but her own still beats in the same way, no matter how she tells it not to. Stupid things, that.

"Hrmph. Trying to hook me up with your friends now, huh? I'd probably try after the bunny first. At least they could be an interesting time." Propping her head on her hand, she taps her cheek with clawed fingers, pondering that. "Not a bad kisser, either. Even if they were only trying to tease me and get me to be flustered like you do. Failed miserably, by the way." She notes. Perhaps his plottings of vengence wouldn't go quite as planned.

Her nose wiggles at the poke to it, and then she bats at the fur at the end of it. She doesn't mention more in regards to Morgan. There is a great deal that she knows that clearly he does not. About how her mentor was a Shadow Lord, and how his power was similar to Serrak's own, including the use of memory charms. For all she knows, Morgan might not even remember her, or Katyna. Who knows.

As the mouse begins his story, Garm is already chowing down on the remains of Hati's meal, but is eyeing up his own. Likely, it'll be empty by the time he looks back to it, and the dog will be innocently pretending to sleep. Clever beast.

Hati, for the most part, listens with the attentiveness one might expect from someone who enjoys listening to stories. She doesn't interrupt, lets him talk, watches his reactions. Sometimes her ear will twitch, or her head will tilt curiously, but mostly she just watches him, head propped on her hand. There is a faint growl in the undertone of her breathing, especially at those points where the nobility turn their backs on those in need. It is not too dissimilar from her father's own way of looking at things.

At the end of his story, though, Hati shakes her head. "You've got one thing wrong there." As much as she may not follow his way of believing, she isn't about to question that. Instead, she continues. "They gave their lives because they chose to. Life and death aren't about who deserves it or not. I never deserved what my father did to me." Her head moves to look at him with that blue eye that seems so odd against the one beside it, the scars marring that side of her face. "You live. Don't feel guilty about it. The best way you can mourn them is making their sacrifice worth it. At least it gives yo ua reason to fight."

With that, she leans up and pats the bed, drawing her legs up and leaving him room to join her. Yes, she's inviting him to sit on the bed with her, deal with it. "Come here." She mutters, "Unless you prefer Garm's company to mine?" She suggests, and the dog lifts his head, tongue lolling.

Faruja Senra has posed:
Faruja finds himself rubbing his hands together. His heart beats a little faster, his smile half sad and half happy. Slowly, the ratling nods. A hand clenches his cross lightly. "...I know. All too well, Hati." He chuckles lightly, rubbing the side of his head.

"Curse my heart. Such kindness and beauty before me." The tone, as he looks at the wolfess, slips from amusement at his own heart's ways to one that's fond...and perhaps a bit more than that. Some part of him screams to gather the wolf up in his arms, to say he returns them. That little introspective moment has a look of guilt pass over his features. Wasn't he in love with Zia? Then why did he desire this wolf's presence so keenly?

"...I gave her the letter. Ahh, but the Lord doth teach this humble Templar humility, for the Lady returns my affections naught." A long, slow sigh.

"...I do believe 'tis what the humans refer to as 'karma'."

The thought of the bunny and Hati together has the rat straight up in his seat, tail squeezing the chair leg for dear life. He's quiet for about thirty seconds as the gears turn in his head. Cue handkerchief and the associated nosebleed. Cough. He has to get up and take a moment to compose himself over the mental image.

"I...I see!" It's only made worst by the fact that the bunny did much the same to him!

"...Even with the veil, she /does/ have a talent for such. Though..." pause.

"Thy own are much sweeter, methinks."

Blink. The at motions to get more stew. Wait, huh? Emptiness! Slowly, the rat's eye turns from bowl to the innocent looking four legger in the room. Peeer!

"Well. We shall see whom gets my beef jerky next time I visit. Hmph!" Yup, Faruja's got your number Garm. No jerky for pup!

"...Making their sacrifice worth it." The ratling mutters after the wolfess. His mind fills with images of better times with his squad mates. It brings a smile to his muzzle, and a tear to his eye. It's gently wiped away.

"Of course. What a fool I have been. Nay. No longer, Hati. No longer shall I bother with guilt. I shall make myself a knight worthy of their sacrifice, to fight on in their name." It's a solemn promise to lost friends.

A spot by the bed? His muzzle opens, briefly imagining what his Mother would say. It gets a small smirk. She'd kill him if she were still around. Walking over, he pauses, briefly reaching down to rub the dog's head.

"Ahh, good pup, I must apologize. I shall bring thee jerky after all for this most horrid of betrayals." A wink to Hati. Then, he sits down upon the bed, briefly feeling like he's about to be lost in all of those blankets. Things could swallow a person whole!

"Ahh, much better." Comfy! The rat turns, looking Hati in the eyes. Despite his earlier fluster, somehow, he feels relaxed so close to her.

Hati has posed:
Once again, the wolf rolls her eyes, "Think you need to get your eyes checked." She isn't the sort to fluster at such compliments, perhaps not really believing them as they are given. The girl hadn't been misleading when she had looked at him with those pleading eyes and asked him to teach her. In some ways, affection, love... everything beyond familial loyalty is a strange, unknown thing. There were flickering hints of it, but these were things she doesn't understand, not yet.

"It happens." Hati replies, knowing how it had felt to go out on a limb and find herself turned back. "You'll heal." While it seems like an opportunity for her to be overjoyed, at the chance that it might be an opening for her, the wolf doesn't push matters. She'd chased long enough, it was time to see if anyone would come to her instead. "Give it time."

Even so, that smirk lingers as she watches that reaction, "I see the bunny has gotten to you, too." With amusement, she laughs, shaking her head. Then, with a playful sort of wink of that one green eye, she muses, "How would you know? You've only kissed me once. I'm sure you've forgotten." She hasn't. It had been a sudden, almost irresistable urge, and she has never been one to really be shy about such things. What she wants, she takes. Now... it's harder. Because a heart isn't something you can force to feel.

Garm seems completely ignorant of the threat, licking at one forepaw. He watches them both with a tired expression, leaning over to do one of those neck scratches that makes his collar jingle. Really, he's quite sure that a good show of puppy eyes would work to make the Templar forget any past wrong-doings.

Hati, on the other hand, seems a little surprised that he catches her way of thinking so quickly. Perhaps she's used to dealing with Katyna, who so stubbornly latches on to everything and so often refuses to look at other ways of seeing a situation. As he comes to sit by her, she shifts a few of the blankets, trying to make it more comfortable. A huge pile of them end up underneath her, and her head rests against them, leaning in his direction, but still keeping a polite few inches between her head and his arm. The girl leans back, looking up half at him, and half at the ceiling.

"You know... it's funny. Both of us were saved from death. You end up with the Church, and I end up with a Shadow Lord. You worked to save the world, I worked to destroy it." Her eyes look to the ceiling, but her expression is somber. "I owed Serrak everything. So I believed everything he told me. Now... I just don't know what to believe anymore." She lets out a sigh, closing her eyes.

Faruja Senra has posed:
Another compliment rejected. Faruja can't help but shake his head. "Mmm. Whom, I wonder, is the blind one here?" Pause. A hand rubs his face.

"Mayhap myself indeed. To think that it would...and with such a gallant wolf as competition..." Mumbles the Burmecian. Would it even work out? Could Zia and the Templar ever really remain together with the strong feelings of Skoll directed to her. Sigh.

That smirk fromt he wolfess, and the rat's tail curls about his own leg. It seems his blush is destined to remain for quite some time! He finds his gaze upon Hati's lips. The rat finds himself leaning in slightly. "...Forget? 'Twas..." Gulp. He fidgets nervously.

"It was my first true kiss from a woman, Hati. That sort of thing, one does not so easily wipe from one's mind."

Mumble, and a shiver that's quite unlike the warmth in the room. Her sharp ears might even catch something about reminders.

Flump! Faruja quite handily flops into the blanket pile, finding himself quite exhausted after a warm meal and the trip. His arms support his head, tail-tip claiming a bedpost and wrapping about it. Cling. Tip-flick.

"...You have a choice, Hati. This Serrak, I would venture to say that he used you. Turned you into his agent, his memory-less puppet. 'Tis a crime most dire, and to such evil ends? There is much in the world to be preserved.So much beauty that the Heartless, and their masters, would consume. 'Tis why I fight them. Hati, my desire is to see you put thy skills against that which would kill us all. Nor do I wish to end upon a battlefield, with this Serrak urging us against one another. I..." Sigh.

"I do not think the will to take thy life remains within me, even in circumstances most dire. You are...you sweet, proud wolf. I fear you have curled up somewhere in my heart, despite our different lives. And I would not expel you for anything. You are..." What is she to him? His heart beats faster.

Somehow, that unknown feeling loses some of its mystery. This close to her, so honest with her...his own heart speaks, and bleeds with the strain of a sparked love.

"Precious to me."

Hati has posed:
"We're both half blind." Hati replies in a drowsy tone of voice, the phrase bearing that truth to it that makes the irony of it that much more amusing. She had lost her left eye, and he - his right. Hers had been replaced by Serrak's magic and care, but some parts of her had not healed from the events of the past. She hadn't given herself the chance to.

"Anyways, I don't know about what my brother feels. He's as much hung up on Avira as he is on your gargoyle. It doesn't matter, anyways." She blows out a breath, nuzzling her head against the blankets. The feel of the mouse moving around and getting comfortable doesn't rouse her too much, but she does listen to his words, her ears tucked back.

"You're wrong." Her voice is quieter then. "Serrak didn't save me to turn me into his puppet. I think... he wanted a second chance at family. His daughter... she died from some illness. Nothing he did could save her. None of his magic." Reaching a hand up, she touches the scarred part of her face, over her eye. "I think I was his way at trying to find redemption. It didn't work, though. He left a few months ago, probably still searching for a way to bring her back."

With a breath, she grabs one of the blankets, pulling it against her chest. "I was the one who asked to forget. I couldn't deal with it then. I was ... just a child. How do you come to grips with your father leaving you for dead?" She shivers, as if the memory of that night still makes her feel cold. Goosebumps show on her skin, even with the warmth of the room. "So I asked him to take it away. Because if I didn't remember, it wouldn't hurt so much."

And then his words stop her in her tracks. They aren't the flowery language that he had written in his letter to that gargoyle, but they make her heartbeat thump in her ears. Those mismatched eyes open to look over at him. Quiet for a time, she shifts a little, leaving her face bare inches from his. One hand reaches, playing with the fringe of his hair. "You can kiss me if you want to." Her words are a whisper, and it's all too clear that she wants to. Self control is a hard thing, but for now she just waits, watching him.

Faruja Senra has posed:
The rat looks to the scarrs around Hati's eye. His hand rises, as if to try to rub them, before he remembers his manners. "...I suppose a comment about the half-blind leading the half-blind would be a bit much?"

A fuzzy brow rises, looking as though it's trying to climb right off of Faruja's head. "S...Ser Ulfang and Lady Avira!? He is...he has..." Well! Clearly the rat hasn't anticipated this. Silence. Then, a hand meets bandaged forehead.

"Bloody fools, we males. Down to the last. Lord guide your brother. I do not envy him the heartache of such."

The tale of Serrak is more tragic than the rat would have thought. He'd assumed the man was just another one like Seith, or LEXUS. No, this one was like Riku: a fool that turned to dark powers when all else was exhausted. Amidst the burning hatred for one like those that took his own home, that pity can be seen should Hati look hard enough.

"Though the desire is understandable...one cannot change Heavenly laws. Once within the Lord's arms, one is to become dust." Pause. Redemption?

"I only pray that this Serrak turns his back upon his ways. There are enough tragedies in the world." It's all the rat can say without meeting the man. Could Serrak, or Hati, be saved? The pragmatic part of him drools over the amount of intel such a man would have. The more zealotous part wants to see him swing still.

Faruja bites his tongue, words about a child being taken advantage of on his lips. No, maybe Hati was right. A foolish thing, to agree to take away such memories...but the merciful one.

"I wish I knew, Hati. However, one cannot run from pain forever." Is all the rat says. The mere thought has him snarling, the product of a loving family himself, he couldn't contemplate such utter betrayal by a Father nor the memories.

Faruja's heart hammers in his chest as he stares her in the eye, her soft fingers on his hair. For a brief moment, there is fear in the brave Templar's eye. Of what it all means, of whether he can take the strain of the love in his heart. His eye closes as she speaks. Silence for a moment, and then it opens. One hand reaches out to gently tilt her head should she allow it as he leans in. His kiss is nervous, the ratling trembling as he does so, but there is passion and tenderness in it. All of the feelings he'd denied since meeting Hati come rushing into him, and his tail curls lightly around the wolfess' own. Space evaporates as the rat snuggles closer to Hati, embracing the wolf that's become so important to him right when he wasn't looking, the thief of his heart.

Hati has posed:
"Oh? Should I get you a leash to go with my collar, then?" The wolf teases, chuckling to herself. She did tend to wear one now and again, much like her brother. It's the sort of comment meant to bring with it certain mental images. She doesn't have much to say in regards to her brother, only offering a shrug of her shoulders. "He's still looking for his wolf. I think he suspects one of them, but he was looking for some greater sign. I think he's an idiot." Then again, don't most little sisters think that way at times of their older brothers?

"Anyways, Serrak has been gone for months with no word. If he was coming back, he would have. Either... he found a way, or he's dead. It doesn't matter." The wolf says that a lot about things that actually /do/ matter. This is the sort of mystery that is made to come back and bite you in the rear. In fact, there are already forces in motion. Hadn't Katyna mentioned dreaming about Lilliana? But why Katyna instead of Hati?

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, the wolf just looks at him. These two should, by all means, be enemies. She should have her fangs at his throat. A few months ago, if he had held his spear at her like he had that first day in Traverse Town, she would have wasted nothing to grind his face into the pavement. But why? So much anger, misplaced at everyone. Yet that darkness still remains. Can a person be saved? She had nearly lost it when Kat had hit her with that blast of dark energy. All the progress nearly gone in an instant. Yet, here she is.

Hati doesn't draw back, she just closes her eyes. There is the warmth of his fingers, and the way the world seems to stop for just a second. For all his nervousness, the moment that she catches that hint of passion, the wolf girl reaches out her own hand and grips onto his clothes, tugging him forward more firmly. One of many things these two have in common is their passion, and her lips are like fire. Not the kind that hurt, but the kind that stir those embers of the heart. She murmurs a small, pleased sound.

As much as she might want to do more, the wolf draws back for a breath, her nose touching his. Emotions and instincts war with one another. But the girl is no longer just a wolf. Hati takes a breath, drawing in his scent. Without asking permission, she shifts herself closer, shoving blankets off with her feet before leaning in, rubbing her cheek in against his and then down towards his neck. It's a wolfish way of marking someone, claiming them in some small way. But then, with her head just below his, she hesitates, and then asks, "So I'm guessing this means you changed your mind about teaching me?"

Faruja Senra has posed:
Blush! The rat reaches out, and gives a nice poke to the wolfess' nose! "Mayhap I shall teach ye tricks, next, then!" he fires back amidst his fluster, determined to not let her get the last word this time. Oh, silly wolfess!

Chin-rub. "...I think 'tis a wonderful dream. Whether such a thing exists...only the Lord knows. For his sake, at least, I pray he finds someone to stoke his heart's fire and to hold within his arms. A good wolf, your brother." Faruja's voice is certainly full of respect for the 'idiot'.

Somehow, the thought of Serrak simply abandoning the wolf only makes the rat hate the Shadow Lord more. To try to 'redeem' her and then walk away...it grinds every zealous bone in his body. His gaze turns to the sketch of the robed figure, pegging him for Serrak. It's quickly burned into the rat's memory.

"Mmm. I find those whom find accord with such Fell powers are oft difficult to slay. Be careful, Hati." Annoyingly so. Take Riku for example.

It almost seems like an eternity ago when the Templar came so close to pushing her over the edge. He'd jumped to conclusions. Though caution would never be his hallmark, it certainly taught the rat a lesson, now that he's come to learn more of the wolfess. A terrifying lesson, if one thinks too much. He tries not to think, to let it blossom into Heretical ones.

The heat of Faruja's heart is almost too much to bear for the ratling. He clings to the wolfess as her burning lips touch his, stealing breath as he returns it with slowly rising confidence. Perhaps not the best kisser in the world, given his inexperiance, but it's made up for in honest feelings and care, and the simple enjoyment of sharing a loving moment. A tiny squeak is muffled along the way.

Blanket rustle as the rat is let go, Faruja looking almost winded from the heat of Hati's own passion, and the one burning within him. His nose wiggles, and his face flushed beneath the fur, an utterly joyous, if somewhat disbelieving, smile on his muzzle. Had he really just done that? Some small part of him loses track of the social rules he just broke. The number is staggering, and the rat finds himself not giving one wit.

Shivering as her cheek touches his, then runs down his neck, one hand reaches to stroke the back of her head. For all of the courage it took to accept her invitation, her question draws utter terror in him. He doesn't answer immediately, as he gathers his thoughts. His is the face of a Burmecian making a choice, an important one. The rat can feel the crossroads before him. A claw scratches at an ear as he's 'claimed'.

"Yes. Such a foolish nezu...to not recognize what thy presence sparked. I cannot claim to be the best, nor most experienced, nor patient of teachers. However, if you would accept it, I would show you the path as best I know it. Lord grant me wisdom." His eye closes, head leaning down to kiss her between the ears.

Hati has posed:
Alas, the mouse is not let to get in the last word, not yet anyways. "Then you had best make sure you bring treats worthy of my attention." She raises an eyebrow, giving him one of those quick up and down looks before chuckling to herself. The mouse shall never win, mwahahaha!

Cough. Hati isn't thinking about her brother, or even really about Serrak. There's that tired sort of blankness that comes from warmth and good company. It makes it easy to speak about such things without dragging up too much of the pain that goes along with it. Such things would come all too soon to claim her.

While he struggles at his own crossroad, Hati simply lays her head against him, clearly without any such troubles. She is a simple creature in many ways, and her eyes close as she listens to the overactive beating of his heart. "Silly mouse." She murmurs. Surely, such intimacy would be considered something that breaks more than a few of his rules, but she has never really been one to care about the rules of others. "I don't care about experience. You /feel/ more than anyone else I've met. I want to know what that's like." She lets out a small, contented sigh.

"I'm not asking you for forever. I'm not even asking you to be my mate. Just..." Her head nuzzles up under his chin again. "This is nice. The rest we can figure out together, if there is anything else." Right now, just in this brief moment, she doesn't want to rush things. This... feels like enough. It's a strange thing, since normally she would want to grab hold, take, claim. Oddly, the thoughts are far from her mind just now.

"It's probably vastly inappropriate, and I'm sure I'm breaking about a billion rules of both the Templars and your people but..." She lifts her head a little to look at him. "Stay tonight? I couldn't let you go back out into the cold, anyways, and there's room..." She nudges a few blankets with a smirk, "If you don't mind being close." Clearly, she didn't mind in the least. There is probably that sneaking feeling, as if she were already trying to corrupt his ideals. But does he really mind that much? "I can take you back in the morning, at least as far as the crossroads. I wouldn't dream of tainting your honor by implying that you'd spent the night with a girl." She teases, laughing to herself again.

It's so strange. That ache in her heart has been replaced by a warm feeling, one she isn't quite sure she understands just yet. Maybe she's not ready for the 'L' word yet, but ... something, that's for certain.

Faruja Senra has posed:
The Templar is defeated, judging by how ramrod straight his body seems to go. Even his tail. One could probably pick him up and use him like some sort of Burmecian battering ram right now, if only he had a helmet. A rather impressively dark red one, at that. Nope, no retort.

A small sigh, and the rat quite simply wraps his arms about her. "Mmm. So much confusion, the webs of one's heart. This, at least, I know I can give thee, Hati. For better or worse, passion and emotion rule me. I offer it to thee freely, that it might enrich and teach. Let us see where this road leads us, hmm? These feelings are yours as well as mine now, Hati." Excitement runs through his blood, on this new path that the rat steps onto. He's not sure where he's going, but it strikes the Templar as one of the adventures that Reize is so fond of.

'Stay the Night'. Faruja chuckles. "Approximately...nineteen seperate social rules. Each." A hand tossles her hair, and the rat disengages himself reluctantly. Is he going to really just leave her?

"Let me at least take care of /one/. This will hardly be comfortable." Pause. The rat starts to undo his robes. Clank.

"And turn thy gaze, oh beautiful, sly hunter." Whether or not she does so, he'll start getting rid of all of that armor. Clearly he'd not expected all of this! Cue various sounds of metal being removed and replaced. By the time he's done, he's down to black pants and bandages.

Moving to rejoin her, he'll slide into the bed, wrapping his arms about her stomach. Pulling close, he sighs happily, gently nuzzling his good cheek against her own.

"There we are. Much better. I see my great shame is safe with thee, oh beautiful thief." A wink, and a smooch as he chuckles.

Perhaps opening him to a bit of ridicule for breaking social taboos...but not something all would find bad. Indeed, several of his superiors would be happy with him loosening up a bit. It may just make the rat more effective. Working with a former servant of a Shadow Lord? That is a much trickier question, though the fact she's already shown willingness to help the Church (however indirectly) has done much to tamp down any dissenting voices.

Falling silent, the rat enjoys the warmth of Hati, eye slowly closing. Exhausted indeed, for soon he is lightly snoring against her, lost in absolute comfort.

Hati has posed:
"You and me both." The wolf replies when he speaks of emotion and passion. Who knows where things will lead. For all she knows, she'll end up at the sharp end of Templar swords the first time she wanders into town with him. Afterall, he isn't the only person to know of her former allegiances to the Shadow Lords. Yeah, that's going to go over well. Still, there have been worse pairings, and maybe there's a chance for it to work out. Maybe.

At first, she offers a soft laugh, "What do I have to do to make it twenty?" Raising her eyebrows, she watches him with a curious look. No, she isn't /really/ going to push it, but her smile falters when he gets to his feet, ears tucking back. You can almost see the disappointment that flashes momentarily in her eyes, offering the cutest of little whimpers. In that brief second, she really /does/ seem to think he's leaving.

Then, she seems to realize what he's doing and at first the girl seems content to just watch. Of course, he has to go and notice. Hati shifts, moving some of the blankets around, making room. Garm approves of this, claiming some of the discarded ones as his new bed. She does avert her gaze, though, leaving room for him as she closes her eyes, head laying against the pillow. "So there's a rule that says 'no snuggling in armor'? I'm going to have to remember that one. And break it. A lot." Oh, she'd have to figure out more rules to break, and that would be part of the fun of it.

She does keep her eyes shut, though, trying to show that she's at least trustworthy when asked such a thing. It isn't until he rejoins her that she snuggles back against him. It's a comfortable sort of feeling. Still, his comment and the kiss on her cheek draws a smile. "Oh, a night with me is your great shame, but wearing panties is just fine." She teases. The girl can't really comment, she usually wears boxers.

Still, with her own soft sigh, Hati lays in against him, listening until his breathing steadies into the rhythms of sleep. She can just see the faintest sliver of the moon through the window. It begs the question... is she betraying her wolf? Closing her eyes, the girl drifts off into her own dreamless sleep. Maybe a white mouse is enough.