The Itsy Bitsy Spider | Willow

[Seren]

Tag: [member="Willow Fae"]​

Location: Nameless Motel, Hutt Space​

---

Heavy is the brow that wears the Crown.

For the man who envisioned himself King, truer words had never been uttered. Upon each shoulder rested a burden that only the mightiest of men could carry. On one resided his pledge to his Witch - the wintery [member="Jenmae Ophiro"] - to aide in her ascension to godhood. On the other resided his vow to snatch the Lupine crown. Devotion and Ambition weighed heavily upon Seren Van-Derveld, and as a result his days and nights were spent abroad. Every moment of every day dedicated to easing the burdens of his life.

In the present, his voyage took him to a relatively unremarkable corner of space. Dominated by the Hutt and other such criminals, the region was not the most desireable locale. However, when it came to acquiring information, one could always get on the right track...for a price. Thus, the Wolf moved from shady cantina to back alley, piecing together his itinerary by means of intimidation and bribery. And, when the sun eventually dipped beyond the horizon, he opted to spend an evening in one of the local hovels.

At dawn, he would resume his voyage.

Most would not feel secure in laying their heads under such seedy conditions. However, there were just enough advantages working in Seren's favor that he felt just fine booking the cramped room. For one, in the way of personal belongings, the Wolf always traveled light. A change of clothes here, his axe and lightsaber there, nothing that a larcenist would fetch much return on. Moreover, his natural talents always gave him a leg up on intrusions. His people had an innate way of sniffing out invaders in their spaces...even if the space stunk to high hell.

With such in mind, Seren deposited his satchel at the side of his bed and fell in - fully clothed. The day's efforts had been fruitful, but the morrow would truly tell if he had invested his credits wisely or not.

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

Hutt space was a favourite breeding ground for pirates, thieves and the like.

Willow often found herself wondering why on earth anyone was stupid enough to spend the night in any part of it, it was almost guaranteed trouble. Still, she could hardly complain too much. They provided good business and, whether they liked it or not, good money. Every night there was a stream of new blood, a sea of fresh targets to pick from. From those who thought they knew the depths of disparity present, to those who wandered in with naive eyes, none were safe from the misfortune rampant in Hutt space. Out here you were either the hunter or the hunted, and Willow made it her business to be the former.

The best stomping grounds was a string of seedy motels a little way off the beaten track. By now, the little spider knew it all like the back of her hand. They were easy pickings as most of them had backdoors and windows leading onto a poorly lit alleyway. Nobody who rented a room in the rundown, rat infested businesses ever stayed there longer than a night. They were almost like half-way houses for those moving on to better places. The risks were slim as most were in too much of a rush to bother with the long winded process of a law enforcement report, and even if they did the police couldn't be trusted out here as far as you could throw them.

So far, there had rarely been a night were she came home empty handed.

Tonight, she thought, would be no different. Though it was almost dead of night now, hutt space never went to sleep. Crashes, bangs, shouting, laughing. All filled the night air in a cacophony of madness, but the drunken rabble rousers were the last thing on Willow's mind. After checking that the coast was clear, the little spider slipped into the cool shadow of the alleyway where she could begin her work. Just like every night, Willow started at a window set a story high into an aging brick structure.

This one so happened to be a window that lead on to a corridor of the first motel. There were three rooms in the corridor, and though they weren't the most pricey of rooms she'd found a number of valuable things there over the past few months. From the moment she started to scale the wall, it was easy to see where the little spider had earned her moniker. Her flexible frame moved nimbly, stretching this way and that to reach the crevices that held her weight. Agile as much as she was flexible, it didn't take the fiery haired youth long to reach the partially opened window. Once there all she had to do was slip under the gap and land quietly on the other side. Easy peasy.

Dusting off her supple leathers, as though thieving were an inconvenience to her worn out threads, Willow crept toward the first door. Predictably when she reached out to try the handle, the thing wouldn’t budge, but that problem was solved in the space of a heart beat. Willow crouched down, producing a thin slither of metal that she clutched between her fingers. Though she had been through this process many times, this was always the worst part. The metal always made the lock click and grind, and in the silence of night the sounds seemed louder than ever. But, after a few gut wrenching moments, the door swung open on its hinges.

There was always someone sleeping in the room, so it came as no surprise to Willow to see the hunched frame curled up on the bed. What did surprise her was the sheer size of it, but that mattered little. This had to be an in and out job. Keen eyes scanned the room quickly. As it usually was, it appeared entirely bare. No clothes hung in the moulding wardrobe, no shoes sat at the end of the dilapidated bed, there wasn’t even a hint of an attempt to make this temporary lodging a home. In fact the only thing that did seem to be foreign, save for the snoring figure, was a satchel crumpled in a heap at the side of the bed. Ordinarily, Willow would have given up the room for a loss and moved on to the next already, but something caught her eye.

The handle of a strange weapon, just protruding from the opening in the satchel. The way the shimmering metal caught the moonlight lit her lavender eyes up. Surely that had to be worth something? With gingerly placed steps, careful to avoid the parts of the floor she knew were creaky, the little spider crept.

 

[Seren]

Tag: [member="Willow Fae"]​

Sleep Lightly.

In what felt an eternity ago, the Wolf had been the hunted. He had come to this time from afar, hoping and praying to find the one soul who made his life worth living. At the time, [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] had been the north star in his night sky. She was the elder sibling that practically raised him and shielded him from all harm. Yet, just like a thief in the night, she vanished in the blink of an eye. Bereft of the sole nugget of happiness he knew, Seren came to the Galaxy of the present and was met with his sibling's imprint on the stars. At first, it appeared she had intended to lead a quiet life. She had seemingly moved on - taking a lover in the form of Gerwald Lechner of all things. Yet, in truth, ambition had colored her every step. Perhaps it was the regal blood they shared that inspired this, but Katrine quickly became Nightmother of a cult called Mandragora.

But by the time Seren truly settled in the modern era, Katrine had vanished once more. So pristine was her disappearance that not even her younger sibling had any inkling of where she had gone. This time, she was beyond Seren's reach.

Yet those who knelt before her - the most radical of the Mandragora - refused to let her go. It was in this time that Seren was hunted beyond all reason. Pursued viciously across the southern systems in the hope that his blood could be used to track down the absent Nightmother. In these days, the Wolf learned a hard lesson with every evening he survived: sleeping light would see him breathe the next morning. Now, though the threat of radical witches had long since passed, the survival tactic had become second nature for the Wolf. It mattered not if he were home, on Cularin, with his beloved [member="Jenmae Ophiro"]. It mattered not if he were in the depths of hyperspace aboard his vessel. Whenever Seren lulled his eyes to a close, his rest was fleeting. He prided himself on being able to rise if anything was amiss.

But all the more, Hutt Space was not exactly the easiest place to rest overall. Between the shouting, the thunderous bass, the blaster fire, and the occasional sirens...the region which never slept certainly made it easy for one to rest and not truly sleep. There would be no dreams had on the part of the Wolf - even if he was trying to actually get some rest. These factors allowed his eyes to creak open when the damning noise erupted from the doorknob. The jingle of metal invading the crevice. The slow turn of the handle. The muted squeak of hinges crying out for lubrication. All of it heralded his eyelids' slow ascension and his awareness peaking all at once. Seren made no moves as of yet. He made certain to make himself appear as still and as asleep as possible. Yet he breathed deep through his nostrils. Yet he strained his ears to perceive.

And that regal, Lupine blood never failed him. What invaded his nostrils was a divine contradiction to the stale must of the quarters. Several hours of resting within the room had acclamated his nostrils to the sheer level of putrid, and thus his accute senses immediately recognized a clean aroma. It was as if someone had lobbed a scented, bar of soap in the middle of a dung heap. Moreover, for as quiet as the assailant was, the dull jostle of fabrics was a damning reality to overcome. The average human would never have been able to perceive this din over their own breathing, but for the King? It was child's play. He waited until the scent grew stronger. Sharper. He waited until it felt as if the assailant was just a footstep away from his bed. He waited until that scent was burned into his memory - so deeply that he could give chase should flight be their immediate response.

And just when they were close enough, the Wolf struck.

He rolled over at once, thrusting his open palm towards the black of the room. His wrath leapt forth at once, projecting as vicious arcs of crimson lightning. Impact would be synonymous with being struck with the finest tazer: one's muscles would cramp at once, leaving the body a twitching, quivering heap. Seren had no intention of killing this fool...not yet.

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

​

The atmosphere in the grungy motel room was tense. Willow could almost taste it in the air, and she could certainly feel it as each of her footsteps met the floor. Once or twice she was forced to quickly withdraw her foot as the beginnings of a creak echoed through the floorboards. Through all the heavy calculation her mind churned through, Willow couldn’t help but hope that whatever the silver shimmer in the bag was was worth the risk. Eventually, after she feared her heart couldn’t take the tension any longer, the fiery haired woman came to a stop. Allowing the time for a silent sigh of relief, Willow swooped low with the intent of pilfer through her prize.

Silence was key in this situation, but even the wind had trouble for filling the word in its entirety. As hard as she might have tried, Willow always took the risk of someone waking up on her. It had almost happened once, she could recall the paralyzing fear that spread from the tip of her toes to the top of her head in the space of a single breath. Her whole body had turned ice cold, frozen in movement and in moment. Willow had stayed there, hunched over an open chest of drawers, for what felt like an age. In the end her target had merely turned in their sleep, and the sound of their steady breathing once again filled the quiet room. Willow loathed that feeling, and since then she had made a more conscious effort to map the rooms she frequented, but it wasn't always enough.

Willow was about to realise that she had strolled into the den of a wolf.

The little spider barely had any time to react, the most she could manage was a surprised yelp as the room exploded in a burst of violent electric red light. After that came pain. Sharp jolts so crippling it caused her muscles to spasm and clench wildly. As she collapsed to the floor the best she could hope for was to come out of this with her tongue in one peice. It was like no other sensation she had ever felt before, but even through the searing pain that tore its way through her nerves, Willow's survival instinct was hatching a plan. What do you do when you're faced with a big bad beast intent on killing you?

Play dead.

When the pain subsided some seconds after her face met the floor, her lithe frame went limp and her lavender eyes disappeared under pale white lids. The final movement she made was a shuddering breath that escaped her lungs in one go. Like a thick cloak, the force came to sheild her, dampening her heart beat and her signature to near silence. In times like this she found herself grateful for what little training her family had provided her. Since the loss of their home Vahla only dealt in useful, and this little trick was as useful as it got in her work. Willow had waited wedged under many beds and tucked in many cupboards, using this little trick to mask her presence entirely.

Perhaps it would have been more prudent for them to teach her how to tell if someone was sleeping or not, but this was all she had, this was her plan. To wait, and to hope that he assumed her dead and tossed her out or that he came close enough for her to land a dirty blow. Whichever it was, Willow was under the assumption that she was entirely prepared.

 

[Seren]

Tag: [member="Willow Fae"]​

Status: Hunt the Hunter.​

Lightning was not a favored skill.

It was not one that the Wolf had come to learn easily. In fact, it was a technique that was beaten into him by the ravings of his tyrannical sire. For as far back as Seren could recall, the infamous Ket had been nothing short of a madman. His ambitions were a Galaxy knelt before him and a dynasty everlasting. And to this end, he put his offspring through the very definition of Hell. In the Wolf's case, that meant education by fire. That meant being torn from his bed in the middle of the night and made to eat bolts of angry lightning for breakfast.

Were it not for the intrusion, the irony of the moment would not have been lost on Seren now.

Alas, this was not the case. Sheer wrath bled forth as the temporary explosion of electricity and struck fiercely into the one who crept. The momentary illumination caused by the lightning filled Seren's gaze with the sight of who was responsible. And, frankly, it was the furthest thing from his expectations. The Wolf had anticipated some disgusting reflection of the Hutt region - some Rodian or Bothan who was slimy enough to make a quick credit. Yet, that which was revealed by the light was...well, her appearance certainly matched the scent.

Rising, his fingers closed into a fist and the woman's body crumbled to the floor. Once more, darkness claimed the room...and with it, silence. Seren listened for the tell tale signs that he did not overdo it - for he had not intended to kill his attacker just yet. However, as the seconds rolled ever forward, even his heightened senses did not perceive breathing. A low hmm escaped him as his gaze briefly fell to his hand - perhaps he was unaware of just how strong being around Jenmae was making him?

Ah well. Now there was a mess for him to clean up.

Seren's heavy footsteps thudded upon the floor as he moved past her broken form. The obvious move - to open the window and to discard her - was not at play just yet. Rather, sheer curiosity was killing the cat. He wanted to know just who it was that was so bold to wander into his room. Thus, when he reached the door, he secured the lock once more before flipping on the lightswitch. A dull bulb kicked on, casting a dim light that paled in comparison to the lightning. Yet, it was enough that he could see what he was doing.

He bent over for just a moment before sinking his hands into the woman's fiery locks. Straightway, they closed into a tight fist before pulling viciously upwards. He yanked assuming that the woman was dead weight, and thus carried tremendous strength behind the pull - enough to see her move over the side of the bed at least. From there, he targeted the boots - for that was where most with sense stuffed their own valuables in the field. Perhaps here he could find some semblance of an answer. Identificaton? Fake Identification? Credits? Who knew?

Regardless, the little spider would soon find her feet bare as he sated his curiosity.

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

A rumbling noise of curiosity escaped the beast lips, with bated breath Willow prayed to the Goddess that her trick had worked. As his feet crossed the splintering wooden floor, shaking every bone in her body with their thunderous steps, her praying turned to begging. The screaming in her mind was so loud it was a wonder that he hadn't heard it. Up to now nothing in her entire life had frightened her this much, but she was relieved to find that fear motivated. It motivated her to survive, to do whatever she could to get out with as much of her life as she could manage.

Thus, as his ragged breathing drew nearer, Willow's mind stilled. With little choice but to keep her eyes shut, the figure was shrouded in mystery. It made the situation all the more terrifying, for nothing was worse than facing an enemy you knew nothing about. Willow didn't even know if he was human or not.

Willow would later remark, in the first stroke of sheer luck she seemed to have that night, that under the circumstances she couldn't have played the next series of events off any better. This great lumbering beast snatched her up in one hand, tree trunk fingers encasing her head in a vice like grip. It took every single ounce of will power she possessed not to scream at the heat that burned across her scalp. His fingers felt like hot knives piercing her flesh as though it had dared get in their way, but her face remained remarkably still. What little pain she did show would hopefully look like the remanence of the powerful lightning that had been her demise.

As her limp frame crashed against the side of the bed, Willow was sure she heard something snap. However, adrenaline made a fine painkiller, and her assailant sent a fresh wave of it coursing through her veins as he pulled at her boot. If Willow were at all able, she would have rolled her eyes in sheer irony and tutted at her poor luck. The boot he picked slid from her foot easily, and out tumbled almost everything she had the space to hoard there. A small blade, a few spare credits, a crude set of lockpicks and the now fried commlink she used to contact her family. Everything she would have needed to escape, but no matter. Not escaping wasn't an option.

Hopefully distracted by the assortment of oddities that slid from her boot, Willow made her move on the wolf. Her other foot, still clad in the sturdy footwear of a thief, flicked through the air with viper like speed. She aimed for what she hoped was his head but whatever it hit, the minute she felt a solid mass, the spider would flee.

Now she was free of his grasp, ignoring the burning sensation of every follicle of hair on her head and the bones screaming in her ribcage, Willow scrambled over the bed. Getting onto it was the easy part, but the sheets were so threadbare it was hard to get any traction. After a terrifying second the little spider finally shot free, and she headed straight for the window. Her heart sank when she noticed it was closed, but open wounds from glass shards would heal. Time in a Hutt prison? Willow wouldn't even last a night.

Slender legs bounded across the open space, remarkably deer like in their step. It didn't matter about the boot, or the lack of loot. She'd have to give up for the night and head back home, and she was sure after everyone heard this tale they would forgive her, but all that would come later. For right now, the only thing on her mind was grabbing her chance at an escape, and she ran at it shoulder first.

 

[Seren]

Tag: [member="Willow Fae"]​

The oldest trick in the book.

When the Wolf was but a pup, one of the first lessons he learned was how to mark the behavior of prey. The regal race of Lupines were canines first - and thus Seren had learned to hunt in a form much furrier than present. He learned to track, to stalk, and to conquer. But moreover, he learned when his catch was simply playing at being deceased. Time, however, had allowed him to neglect this particular lesson. For the fiery-haired larcenist had managed to withstand his advances whilst remaining perfectly limp.

There were few - even adult men - who could bear the agony of their scalp being lit ablaze. Yet, as Seren tangled his fingers into her locks, there was not even the slightest whimper. Though he could hear all, he did not even hear the slightest hint of her breath. But even this paled in comparison to what came next. Hoisted by his sheer strength, the woman was tossed across the space and over the side of the bed. Yet the trajectory was far from perfect. As she landed, her bones made a dull crunch upon the side - denoting a rib or two had been broken.

Even still, there was not even a gasp. Not even a cry. Not even a breath. Seren fell right into the trap of her playing dead and spent undue attention pulling off her boot. It was pure happenstance that his arms were yet raised from the tug when she decided to fly. The remaining boot raised and slammed into his elbow, propelling her forward a bit on the bed. She scrambled with desperation, clawing at the ragged sheets and launching herself towards sweet freedom. All that stood between her and the night was a thin layer of glass!

But it would never break.

For her muscles would betray her. No matter how hard she attempted to command her arms and legs to move, they would not budge an inch closer to the glass. Momentum had failed. T'was as if she had dove headfirst into the most viscous pool of molasses. Nothing under the sun would permit her to move...save for the man responsible for the affect. Once more, the Force proved to be the Spider's undoing - for his Stun was easily one of the most practiced techniques. There was no better way to go in for the kill than to eliminate all ability to prevent one's fangs from sinking in.

Thus, she would feel her body slowly slip backwards upon the bed whilst being locked in that same stance. With freedom slipping outside her grasp. Seren did her the courtesy of utilizing his command to turn her about, allowing her lavender gaze to meet his lakes of burning sulfur. To say that the wolf was not amused was an understatement. His offhand was clutched fast into a fist and maintained his grip whilst his dominant hand reached for that shiny object that would cost her everything.

Snap. Hiss.

The lightsaber burned into being with but the slightest touch and hovered just an inch above her abdomin. Once slip and the tale of her life would slip away. Suddenly...she would find relief flooding about her neck and jaw, though the rest of her form would remain locked. And as he freed her tongue, the baritone of his voice demanded: "You don't look...like you're from here. You're not the same flavor of scum. Why is it that you risk it all to steal?" His gut was saying he shouldn't have even asked. He should have just ran her through.

But there was something about seeing such a contradiction to the seedy motel that made him think of that forest. That made him think about how desperate he was when he fled the Nightmother's radicals. It took a Witch with no morals to save him...maybe..

Ah, who was he kidding.

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

Freedom was within her grasp.

The moonlight taunted her, its powerful glow clawing to break through the crusty layer of grim covering the glass. With every step it seemed to grow brighter, and it dared to bring her hope along with it. Willow could taste the acrid city air, she could smell the drunks as they stumbled along the street below, she could see a chance. She had even begun to prepare herself for the amount of damage she'd suffer jumping from the window, and for a moment it wasn't all for nothing. For a moment it seemed as though she would make it, for a moment it seemed as though she had won, but Willow had no idea just who she had stumbled upon.

She had no idea just how big and bad this wolf was.

With little warning, the very air around her turned thick. Like some God had wandered in and stirred up the atmosphere till it was the consistency of syrup. The momentum Willow had built up scrambling across the bed disappeared in an instant. From the tips of her toes to the top of her head, her body froze in place as though he had thrown carbonite at her escaping form. Willow cried out, but no sound came. She struggled against it as though it would make an ounce of difference, but it didn't. For a second she was stupid enough to believe that it wouldn't get any worse, but as the moonlight grew smaller and smaller in her vision, Willow watched her chance of escape fade into nothing.

To further her despair, she felt her heart sink as it faded entirely from her vision and instead was replaced by the glaring, vehement eyes of the wolf.

Even though there was no chance of it, Willow still fought against the prison his power placed her in. All she could do was struggle, and every muscle in her body ached as though she were, but not a single one of them moved. All her instincts were screaming that it was a wastless use of energy, but by now the panic had made itself home. By now she was smart enough to know there was little left to do, but she refused to give up until the very last second. She refused to give up until every last slither of hope had turned dark.

That was until she caught the glint of a silver weapon in her peripheral vision.

An electric hum filled the room to bursting point, dousing the tired walls with a violent glow. Her chest felt tight as it did its best to palpitate against the stun, her breathing felt ragged despite the fact that she couldn't feel her chest moving at all, but the fear? The fear was plain in her eyes, as plain as the anger in his. As the searing heat drew close to her flesh, and though it made no difference at all, Willow ceased her internal struggle. The first thing she did when she felt the stun melt away from her face was swallow the lump in her throat.

The second thing she did was drink in her assailant. As much as she had guessed from his sleeping frame, he was the size of a bear. With muscles almost twice as big as Willow's head. However, it wasn't his size that drew her attention, it was his eyes. They were deep brown, with a feral darkness shadowing their every move. The only time Willow had seen eyes similar were on the beasts her family sometimes hunted for food. The wild carnivorous beasts that fought back with all their might, the ones that wouldn't hesitate to eat you from the inside out.

When he finally spoke Willow winced, but surprisingly the commanding tone struck no further fear into her.

'So perceptive of you.' The little spider snapped with more maliace than she thought she was capable of. 'But don't you know scum comes in all kinds of flavours? I'm the subtle type, like the aftertaste of a fine wine. You? I could tell you were scum the moment I picked your lock. I could smell it from the corridor.' When faced with a dangerous situation, fear should be the most prevalent emotion. But when you stare death in the face, when you know y’ll meet with him no matter what you do, fear is decidedly scarce. 'I'm not telling you a thing.' She spat the word out the word defiantly, spraying his chest with specks of bright crimson liquid.

 

[Seren]

Tag: [member="Willow Fae"]​

Location: Motel, Hutt Space​

Fight or Flight.

It is said when any creature is backed into a corner, the mind responds in one of two extremes. Over the course of the fiery-haired woman's presence in his quarters, Seren had only bore witness to the former at the moment. As soon as the opportunity had presented itself, the woman had attempted to buck against her circumstances and fly. There was no way that crashing through the window would have been any less damaging than weathering a tried and true beatdown. Hell, she might not have even survived the fall. But in the moment of panic, Flight demanded that she escape.

And as he trapped her within the viscous embrace of his Stun, fear began to radiate from the woman. It was a succulent aroma that he could perceive only through his forceborn senses. It was much akin to a predator knowing that its prey trembled from within the embrace of numerous bushes. Seren could smell the terror within her. He could see it clearly within the lavendar eyes which stared back against him. Yet, as the seconds rolled ever by, the instinct within the woman drastically changed.

She was backed into a corner once more. Her entire body petrified from the neck down. Her mind must have known that struggling - that flight - was futile. And thus, she faced her maker on her own terms. Fight seeped into her bones and that sweet aroma of fear died almost as quickly as it came in. Seren could only see himself in that moment. See the wounded boy leant against a tree as those damned Witches closed in. Despite being crippled by their arrows, he clutched a bloody hatchet in hand and challenged them all.

Even though he knew he'd die.

She called him scum. Spoke with a bravado that was almost convincing. Hell, she even spat in his face - though it was mostly blood at this point. Seren paused for but a moment and trailed his tongue over the droplet of blood that had landed there. Intentionally. What appeared as nothing more than a perverse "power move" was much, much more. With but a taste, he would never lose this mark. She could fling herself out every window. Fly across the Galaxy...but the Trail would always lead him back.

Just in case he decided to let her live, that is. "And yet, you're the one who broke into my room." his response was nonchalant and punctuated by a rude jab of his saber's hilt into her damaged ribs. Pain was an excellent motivator, after all. "You call me scum, and yet, aside from being justifably battered - you're in much better shape than actual scum would leave you. A pretty little thing like you? My my." he shook his head, lips curving into a deliberate grin.

"Do you really want me to be scum right now? Or do you feel like talking?"

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

Her brows furrowed in the center, in time with the tongue he poked out to taste the speck of crimson she'd left on his lip. While all she could project at the time was confusion, somewhere in her mind she knew it was more than just a strange attempt to dominate. It was almost like it was a ritual for him, like absorbing that one drop would tie her to him forever, Yet, her primary emotion in the moment was sheer bemusement. Not only at his currently undecipherable actions, but at what his booming voice spewed at her next. Willow was almost too amused at his statement to answer, but she found the words quick enough.

'You're in hutt space, what did you expe-...' Her sentence was cut short by the blunt jab he aimed at her cracked ribs. Everything screamed at her to cry out, to overshadow the aggressive fizzing from the blade with her harrowing screeches of pain, but no sound came. Sick, strange men like this thrived from pain, and she certainly wouldn't be giving him any satisfaction tonight. Instead her lavender eyes disappeared behind scrunched pale white lids, and her lips pressed together till they were a slim line of crimson on her face. Struggling to breathe, but desperately trying to spare herself another shot of burning pain as her ribs moved, it was all she could do to keep her cool.

Willow couldn't tell if the smell of blood was coming from whatever damage the wolf had done, or if she had split her lip in the effort to keep herself quiet, but the bitter iron aftertaste was overpowering.

When the intense burning died down, and with his next words, Willow's expression changed. She smiled. She laughed as hard as her injuries would allow her. Though her ordinarily sweet tone was dry and laced with pain, she laughed for as long as she could. As the room faded once more into the electric hum of the saber, Willow let out a ragged sigh. Perhaps it was temporary insanity, or perhaps it was a coping mechanism, but it passed quickly. Her eyes finally flicked open again. Though every movement she made caused searing hot pain to infest her body, she once more tilted her head to stare at the wolf who held her firmly in his gaze.

The crazed brown orbs that bore back into her soul brought up another fresh wave of fear. It was strange that she hadn't seen it before, but perhaps the adrenaline had shielded her from the truth. This man wasn't just feral, he wouldn't just eat her from the inside out like the beasts her family hunted, no. He would enjoy it.

She wasn't going to get out of this alive. Whatever he decided to do by the end of it Willow would be broken. Death was easy to plead for, it would take but a moment to cave and implore him to finish it right here and now. That action, however, would potentially rob her of more than her life. It would rob her of the last remaining shred of dignity she clung onto, and that just wouldn't do. She would rather fight to the last breath than to have anyone say she hadn't at least tried to bite back. When there was nought left to do but accept your fate, the last thing you can resort too are words. Nobody can claim them or dominate them for their own purposes, and only the extraordinarily gifted can force you to give them up.

Words were the only semblance of control Willow had left in this situation, and she'd be damned if she didn't use them.

'You won't get a single word out of me. Do your worst..' She demanded through gritted teeth, though her voice had lost much of its arrogance. Instead it had been outwardly replaced with a sour darkness, a threatening edge, or at least as much as a girl of her stature could muster. Underneath, however, he had struck fear back into her. She just assumed he couldn't tell. 'But know that if you leave me breathing by the end of it, you'll live to regret it. With every breath, every heartbeat, every second of every day.'

 

[Seren]

Tag: [member="Willow Fae"]​

Location: Motel -> Apartment, Hutt Space​

---

The young woman was fascinating.

Over the course of his lifetime, the young Wolf had the privilege of hunting numerous times. His adversaries turned into prey more often than not - and once all avenues of escape were ripped from their grasp, surrender sometimes followed. There were always those who would take up the blade and make a valiant, final stand...but in the case of the young woman, there was no sword to raise. She did not command a wellspring of might - at least, not that he could sense. Nor did she employ any talents that would have alleviated her situation.

And yet, despite it all, she managed to retort. Her first words, immediately prior to punishment via the hilt of his weapon, were a snappy retort about where they stood. Yes, they were in the midst of Hutt Space; but by pointing thus out, did she not deserve everything that was coming to her? If their surroundings were the sole justification needed to descend into the realm of scum, then by all means "when in Rome." She fell silent following the blow, but her agony rippled through the Force like a glaring beacon.

But, despite the wound to her ribs, she held her peace. Silence ruled her as a display of strength.

When Seren said his piece and made his final inquiries, laughter was the initial response. Maddening, sickening laughter. Perhaps the pain had caused some of the screws to finally come loose. Perhaps the situation and the reality that there was no happy ending to this evening finally saw cracks begin to form. Yet, despite the obvious threat which loomed in the open air, she eventually calmed and quieted herself. In a sense, she picked up the only blade she had. Her response was fiery. Pointed. And carried a hollow threat that they both knew was a fallacy.

There was nothing that she could do. And Seren proved thus by raising his offhand. The power drew her ever closer, so close that their eyes were less than a hand's distance apart. Leaning forward, his lips bridged the distance and hovered beside her ear. "You know this power that I have...it tells me things too. Tells me when there are living beings about. Tells me when there are recently dead. And right now...it's telling me that you're full of chit and you know it." A cold chuckle sounded in her ear. At this distance, it might have even caused ringing. "But even louder than that...it's telling me that you are afraid."

"Just remember, I gave you a chance."

The Wolf became a native of Hutt Space. Scum of the highest caliber. He was scum enough to allow her moments of mock freedom - moments where the bewitchment intentionally fell and the door was left open. Moments where he allowed her to run, only to test how well the Trail worked. For the hours that he indulged, he always caught up. And they were right back to the beginning - being scum. There was an end to the torment, however. As the light of day began to filter through the windows, he laid one final trap.

And like any sane soul, the bait was taken straightway. Each time, the way was left open, and each time the prey would scurry off. Through the avenues and alleys, but always headed in the same general direction. Seren took his time following, for sheer curiosity had seeped into his bones. He even paused long enough to procure for himself a cup of questionable caf along the way. Eventually, the renewed hunt would take to a hotel that was more run down than even the motel that he resided in.

A well-placed boot removed the obstacle that was the locked door. And once more, the Wolf had cornered his prey. But this time, there were an aging pair of bystanders. Relatives by a quick once over. "Good morning." he said, beaming. The cup of caf was left upon an adjacent end table as he strode confidently within the apartment, arms held wide open. "So this is where you were running off to in such a hurry. My my." A low tsk tsk fell from his lips as he advanced. Part of him was enjoying this far too much.

"You two. Do you know what this one does? She breaks into motel rooms and robs the drunk, the drugged, and the weary. Almost got herself killed. What do you have to say for yourself, huh?"

Confidence bled through every syllable, for even now the truth was becoming apparent. It mattered not how far she ran or how fast, the Wolf would always find the Spider.

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

His harrowing chuckle sent a shiver through her entire body. He was right, she was afraid. If it weren't for the stasis still keeping her frozen she would have been betrayed by the shuddering of her frail body. Though his laugh still rang in her ears, echoing back and forth for what felt like an eternity. Yet once again she used the only weapon she had at her behest, words. 'Oh, really? It tells you when things are recently dead, huh? You probably want to get it checked out then, it failed you for a moment there...' A thin smile broke over her lips, and when she spoke her voice may have been barely a whisper, but it was ladled with amusement. That was the last time the little spider found anything she had to say entertaining.

The following few weeks were a type of hell that Willow couldn't have conjured in her worst nightmares.

Torture and humiliation were one thing, but the Wolf took it further than that. Almost every day he would dangle the sweet temptation of freedom before her eyes, and every day the little spider willingly took it, her punishment always followed soon after. She felt almost like a bird trapped in a cage. The Wolf would leave the door ajar or the window open to tempt her to fly, but she was quickly learning he had her chained her to him. No matter how long he allowed the chain to be, no matter how far she flew, he always pulled her back again. By the sixth or seventh attempt most people would have given up.

Willow by now had made more escape attempts from this one room alone than she had in her entire life. It was an impressive number to beat considering her line of work, but she wasn't trying to beat any personal records. After the first few attempts it was painfully obvious she would never escape him. Every chance she took Willow would make it a little further than she did last time. Perhaps it was only a street further, or perhaps he'd allow her to cross a whole town. No matter how much further she got, hope always grew with it, and it was always dashed. Leaving a way for her to escape, letting her run... it was all a game to him. It was designed to break her, and to prove to her that there was no escape save for the ones he permitted.

In the coming weeks Willow would remark to herself on several occasions that Hutt prison would have been preferable. Awake or asleep, the satisfaction and amusement etched on his face when he dragged her kicking and screaming back to the motel would haunt her daily. Why she insisted on torturing herself further by risking the escape every time would baffle even the most competent of minds, but it was as simple as anything to Willow. When the thing you want most is laid before you only the most determined of beings could ignore it, or the most broken, and she certainly wasn't broken yet.

The wolf had to catch her every time, but Willow only had to be lucky enough to make it home once.

Fortunately her hope and determination was, for but a brief moment, rewarded. On the day she managed to catch her first glimpse of the dilapidated hotel they had made into a temporary home, Willow wept. Not tears of fear or pain like they had been for a while now, but tears of joy. She couldn’t have felt more elated at the sight of the peeling paint or the splintering doors. There wasn’t a price she wouldn’t pay for the excitement of hearing the lock click open, and she couldn’t begin to describe the sheer relief it was seeing her parents' faces again. They were, of course, surprised and relieved to see her too. Willow only allowed herself to reveal in the reunion for a moment or two. He might not have found her yet, but the Wolf would be hunting her. They needed to move.

‘We have to go.’ Unwillingly, the fiery haired Vahla pulled herself free of her parents embrace. Panicked though she felt her first instinct was to begin sweeping up their belongings into whatever she could find. They had questions, of course. Where had she been, what had happened, why was she covered head to toe in black and purple bruises, but Willow ignored them. Hopefully the state of urgency in her tone would be enough to convince them. ‘We can’t stay her-...’ The moulding wooden door exploded in a spray of splinters, allowing bright daylight to stream into the dingy reception.

Willow’s heart sank.

When the Wolf advanced, Willow backed away, but her parents did not. ‘Please…’ She pleaded, to who exactly she couldn't say, but her voice caught in her throat and the words came out as barely a whisper. ‘We do what we must.’ The aged voice of her Father answered almost as confidently as the Wolf had questioned. Unlike Willow he’d had the advantage of being trained under the Ember Cult, and before she knew what the Wolf was capable of Willow had thought his mastery of the darkside would be enough. But now? She knew she was dead wrong. ‘Are you the one that did this?’ When her Father spoke again, Willow cringed. It was almost like the finger he pointed at her came with a spotlight, when all she wanted to do was slink into the shadow, to disappear.

‘You come here and question our motives, our way of life, but what about you?’ The sting in the old man’s tone was sharp. ‘Look at her… Look at what you’ve done.Over a few credits worth of things? What do you have to say for yourself?'

 

[Seren]

[member="Willow Fae"]​

The simple motion was deafening.

In the wake of the decimation of the family's door, there was naught save silence. The quiet allowed his footsteps to sound thunderous. The gentle tap of his cup of caf was as a bass drum. And his words erupted with the force of the divine. Oh, the Wolf was enjoying the moment. Though bravado was plastered upon the faces of the parents before his amber gaze, there was something undeniable he could smell in the air. It was synonymous with the sensation he perceived from his victim over the course of their time together.

There was Fear present. And it was delicious.

Was Seren a saint? Was Seren right to question the morality of sending one's child into the lion's den after his own atrocities? The hypocrisy was alarming in scale - yet right and justice were decided only by the one who was mightist. History never looked upon the defeated as morally upstanding. But rather, those who claimed victory by strength alone - they were able to call themselves good. Or at the very least, right. And in the moment, it was the Wolf who was the mightiest.

But that did not mean that the Spider's family would not try.

As the man spoke, who must have been her father, the fiery-haired woman recoiled. The arms of the mother were a quick consolation, for they immediately moved to embrace her. But there was a weight to the father's tone that Seren could not ignore. A subtle hint of darkness that nudged the edge of his mind. Though his voice spoke, another hissed within his psyche. Words formed and then repeated. A maddening mantra quickly began to sound. Then, a glance. It would have been lost upon the daughter, but husband and wife both agreed.

And both worked together. In the silence of the room, they entered into a quiet battle against the Wolf, filling his mind with a cacophony of overlapping voices. Yet the message was the same, repeated, over and over: Turn back. Leave. Run. Danger. For but a moment, the Wolf lowered his arms and a scowl dominated his face. To the eyes of the Daughter, this might have simply been displeasure on the part of the father's words. But in truth? It was effort.

And he howled back.

He followed the flow of their power and roared within their minds. Yet, the power he earned - the power of gods and blood - far outpaced the parlor tricks of mother and father. The madness in his own mind came to an abrupt conclusion, but in its place...control. The Wolf planted his banner into the psyche of the parents and, satisfied with his victory, moved a step closer. His hand dragged a nearby chair before him and he descended into the seat. One leg crossed over the other and he motioned to them all.

"I say, justice was served. I say, better this than death." he began, lips curving once more into his confident grin. "But, I do know a thing or two about this rancid hole you call Home. If credits weren't an obstacle, the two of you wouldn't have your daughter prowling in your name. So. Here is what I propose." his hands clasped together for but a moment before diving into the pocket of his jacket. They emerged with literal fistfuls of credits. They would immediately recognize the small, platnium bars which denoted thousand in multiple places in his grasp.

"I've got enough here to buy, crew, and supply an Imperial frigate many times over. With but a fraction of this, you both could retire someplace nice. Naboo? The Core? The sky's the limit. Name your price for that little one you throw into harm's way."

He could feel resistance mounting within their minds, but with but a whim he trampled that underfoot. Instead, the father's lips began to move in accordance with his will. And a number was uttered. It was astronomical. It was ludicrious. It was...left on the table in a large heap for him to claim. And with that, Seren turned his gaze upon the Spider, beaming.

"I advise you gather your things. We've a long trip ahead."

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

​

The tension in the room was palpable. Willow could feel it stretching the air so thin it was almost impossible to take a breathe, but nobody else seemed to notice. Nobody else seemed to care. Despite her Mother’s arms wrapped around her shoulders in a warm embrace, the room felt cold. As though in the time it took for the Wolf to walk from the door and take a seat, someone had sent an icy breeze through the entire reception. She was entirely oblivious to the mental battle that occured between the two titans, and she was probably better off that way.

Her parents being there gave the little spider some courage. ‘Death would have been preferable.’ She snapped, but her harsh tone was immediately soothed by the shushes of the woman embracing her. The only other noise she made was a scoff at his offer of a proposition. What did they have to offer him? It wasn’t as if her parents would ever agree to anything he had to say. Willow didn’t like the arrogance in his voice, it was almost as though he knew he had already won. She was right to think so, for his next words would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Everything went quiet. Her Father still spoke, as did the Wolf, but they sounded muted. Distant. Where the weight of her Mother’s arms had once felt comforting, it quickly became unbearable. They rooted her to the spot, preventing her from doing anything as she watched the only ties she had to the Galaxy break. Reason and logic pleaded with her to cry out, to argue against it, but despair and shock choked back the words. All she could do was watch in horror, pools of lavender wider than they had ever been, as her Father bartered with her life.

A price was set, and paid just as quickly. To Willow it was almost as though she were watching a holofilm about someone else’s life. There was no comprehending the misfortune that had befallen her these past few weeks, but this? As her Father scraped the credits from the table her Mother’s arms released her. The movements were disjointed, as though she fought them with every inch, but Willow didn’t have the mind to notice. Someone was crying. She could hear it piercing her ear drums and echoing through her empty head.

It came as some surprise to realise it was her own tears that fell, it was her own voice that choked out heavy sobs. It all just felt so… unreal. Like what had transpired had ripped her from her body and placed her at the top of the scene. Forcing her to watch it unfold, unwilling and unable to allow her to do anything about it.

Even as the Wolf commanded her to gather her things, Willow had to watch helplessly as her arms and legs obeyed. Now and then her eyes would dart to the only two people she had left in the Galaxy, but they would only be disappointed. Her Mother and Father were much more concerned with counting out their ill-gotten gains. After seeing that, Willow would no longer allow the tears to fall. Her eyes would threaten too by turning her vision so blurry it was almost impossible to see, but she forced it. Forced it till the lavender orbs burned and a soft scarlet shade filled her cheeks.

When all that she possessed was packed in a bag, the young Vahla headed for the door. She didn’t dare look at the Wolf, or speak a single word to him. Whatever she had to say now would likely earn her punishment later on. She didn’t even dare to look back at the gremlins hunched over their hoard, counting it one by one. There was no teary goodbye, or even the hint of an attempt at one. As far as Willow was concerned, they no longer existed. Anger was all she could feel toward the people she had once trusted to guard her life with their own.

Shouldering the heavy hotel doors open, Willow was immediately bathed in the warm sun. It danced across her skin in waves, bright and blazing just as it should be. Despite the empty feeling growing in Willow’s stomach, it was of some comfort that the world seemed to be going on around her. However, the beauty of it was quite lost on her.

All she could think about was the fact that she would have to face it entirely alone.

 

[Seren]

[member="Willow Fae"]​

They wanted to scream.

The suffering in the sordid space was nearly palpable - and yet unseen all at once. As the Wolf exercised his dominion over the husband and the wife, he could feel their rebellion in the corners of his mind. As every second rolled past, they recoiled against the restraints which held them bound. They roared curses that only he could hear. They struggled against bonds only he could see. But in the end, their very best efforts would not liberate them from his vicegrip. In fact, as they struggled, Seren gripped all the more tightly.

The Father, his willing thrall, played the part beautifully. Though his voice shrieked in protest in his mind, the man hurried and collected the handfuls of credits. He stepped away from his broken child and stuffed them all into the family's strongbox - conveniently located underneath one of the shattered floorboards. In the interim, the mother attempted to quiet the fiery-haired girls cries, before guiding her forward towards the Wolf. She said nothing, amidst quiet sobs, and did as she was commanded. Her possessions were quickly gathered before she stepped forward.

Her Home was no longer her home.

The Wolf reached out and place a hand upon the young woman's shoulder. His lips plastered with that confident grin - of a victory achieved. "Fret not. Though we've had much fun thus far, we won't have time to play nearly as much. But you'll earn your keep nonetheless. I'd say tell them goodbye, but...well...if I were you, I wouldn't want to." He gave the young woman's shoulder a light squeeze and motioned with his chin for her to move outside the ruined door.

His footsteps were immediately in her wake, as if to join her. But he paused. With back turned towards the parents, a final order was silently burned into their minds. It mattered not how far away he was - like clockwork, this burning urge would dominate them until fruition. His will was two-fold: an account number was repeated in their minds to deposit the credits, for he would not be out a single dime for the moment. And, once they had done so, they were to pick a fight with the nearest Cartelt.

And lose.

Death would be their only release from this Hell. And in doing so, there was no longer a loose end to tie. The young Spider would belong to the Wolf, completely, perpetually. As if to cover the silent dictation, Seren reclaimed the cup of caf that he had temperorarily placed upon the table. With that, the two embarked on a new life together - one that he had intended to be of sheer amusement. But things seldom go the way one envisions all the time. In fact, as the saying goes, if you wish to make the gods laugh, tell them your plans.

* * *​

Golbah City had been the moment that caused the gods to howl with laughter.

There was no reason for the pair to tarry on the world beyond the afternoon, and yet the Wolf was moved by the look in the young woman's eyes. Though the day had been far better than any she had experiened with him before, the reality of its conclusion brought darkness to where there once was light. Tension had been the foundation of their hours within the park - and yet, as the seconds rolled forward, Seren had managed to cause Willow to smile. Just once. Yes, it involved him getting ice cream painfully all over his beard, but the moment was had.

Moreover, the fire in his stomach from her larceny had begun to fade. He was a wrathful creature - prone to punish in excess whenever he was done wrong. Yet, never before had he the opportunity to truly live out the ends of his anger. Typically, he would have killed an offender long before. And yet, in the case of Willow, she lived. She tarried upon his ship. Stayed - admittedly unwillingly - beside him. Thus, proximity alone would be enough for him to eventually recognize the humanity in her. After all, he had never before owned a slave - not even in his service to Jenmae.

But as he watched the young woman curl up in her quarters upon the ship, Seren began to see something more in her. The weight of solitude pressed firmly upon her shoulders - and Seren couldn't help but see this pain. After all, it had been the same mire he waded through his entire life. It was punctuated, once, by his elder sibling Katrine. And then permamently put to rest by his pallid paramour. Yet, even before she entered his room that fateful evening, Seren wagered the woman felt the icy grip of solitude. And now? It was all she had.

The Wolf shook his head, as if to dismiss the thoughts. What, was he going soft? Bah.

Typically, Seren would simply barge in on the woman's quarters whenever he so chose. Yet, in a rare show of humanity, he knocked upon the doorframe before poking his head inside the opening. "Little Spider." he began. Even the nickname he had given her reeked of the truth he tried to ignore. Jenmae had begun smiting his solitude with one such - little wolf - was he inches away from doing the same? Why did he even care? "If you're not too tired from the park, I figure it would be a shame not to see the city itself. It's not everyday that we'll be able to see the Confederate capital."

Was...Why was he asking? Nonetheless, he reached out his dominant hand - not dictating, but seeing if she would take it. "Are you up for it?"

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

​

His hand on her shoulder did nothing to steady her nerves, but Willow managed to retain the stone faced expression that had come over her the moment her Father scraped the credits off the table. The tears still fell, but she hadn’t the energy to wipe them away. Returning to the ship felt like the longest journey she’d ever made. In hindsight, she wished she had slowed to enjoy the feeling of the sun on her skin and of the wind in her hair. However, in the moment all she wanted to do was hide away, so she walked quickly. Willow didn’t even spare a glance at the hotel that had once been her home.

From then on nothing in the little spider’s life remained the same. At the start she fought his every command tooth and nail, but the punishment he inflicted quickly taught her it was best to obey. Despite that, her chase for change was relentless. Ironically, in the end, it was when Willow stopped her chase that change finally came. When she had finally given up the fight for her freedom and accepted her fate.

***​

A knock on the doorframe caused her to startle. Pools of lavender cast themselves upon the Wolf, bright and dancing with confusion. At first, she appeared to do nothing but furrow her brows. Her mind reeled, trying to find the answer to his question, and to the thousands of others it had brought with it. Ordinarily, once she had slipped between the soft sheets in her quarters, that was where she remained until he required something of her. Why had he changed his mind now? He had already spent all day idly amusing her at the waterpark. Something about the tender way he posed his question made

Her eyes quickly glanced from his face to the hand he offered out. ‘I suppose…’ A pale hand poked out from the sheets and curled itself around the Wolf’s. It was almost lost in his gigantic palm, but the rough skin against her own was strangely comforting. ‘Why would it be a shame to miss it? What's so important about the Confederacy?’ She questioned as she slipped from the bed and onto the floor. For some reason, she kept as tight a hold on his hand as she could manage. Even when she bent over to sweep up the jacket she’d left in a heap on the floor.

As they exited the ship, Willow absently wondered how much time they had left to see the rest of Golbah City. She had seen big cities before, but none like this. The skyline had stretched as far as she dared to look. The size of the park alone was mind blowing, and that was just a small section of the planet. Still, no matter how far they got, a walk in the fresh air would do her some good. She could still feel the keen sting of regret. There was still a sour note on her tongue brought on by her decision to stay.

Maybe conversation would help rid her of the taste. ‘Where are we going next?’ Her free hand idly motioned toward the planet to indicate her meaning. ‘After here, I mean.’ It was the first time she had showed any interest in their next destination. The idea that she was trapped here forever was beginning to wear her down. If she had no choice but to remain then perhaps it was in her interest to make the best of it. The only real problem she had was, Willow wasn’t sure if he was the one forcing her to stay anymore. After today it was clear that some part of her wanted to remain here, as much as she disliked the notion. But that was a conversation better saved for the hours she spent pretending to be asleep.

 

[Seren]

[member="Willow Fae"]​

She had a choice.

Though the Little Spider did not realize, the Wolf had given her the rare opportunity to determine her own fate. In the days and weeks leading up to the present, Seren had been the navigator and dictator of her life. When he so much as uttered a desire, he expected the fiery-haired woman to do nothing more than leap at his command. But in this moment, she had the freedom to choose. She had the freedom to turn her chin away and decline his offer to see the metropolis outside of his vessel. Yet, despite the fact that she could have closed the door in his face - metaphorically - her tiny hand came to rest within his palm. Her voice was gentle. Timid even. As if she were setting foot upon a frozen lake and hoping that the ice held fast.

As they began their journey, a question was posed to him. One that made absolute sense as she shrugged her jacket onto her form. What was so important about the Confederacy? She was missing the point of his thoughts, it seemed. Thus far, they had frequented only the seedier and rougher corners of the Galaxy. Golbah City, by comparison, was a shining diamond just waiting for their embrace. They would find minimal crime here - at least compared to the cesspits. Thus, it was something that would be a shame to miss. Something that every human deserved to witness at least once - and that was exactly what the fiery-haired woman was. He would never say as much out loud, but when she took his hand, it just felt right.

It felt right to treat her like the human she was.

"Thus far, we've only seen the underbelly of the Galaxy." he began, striding after her as they disembarked the ship. "Golbah City is a far cry from what you're used to. I figure you'd appreciate something different." As they spoke and began their aimless wandering about the stars, silent temporarily ruled them. His thoughts on the matter had been but a momentary stay in the quiet, and Willow soon broke the trend. When she spoke again, they had begun to near the Hub - where the neon lights soon filled his vision. Rows of brightly lit shops drew ever closer and a reality soon blossomed within his mind. She had brought along only the bare necessities and, though they had laundry aboard, there was not much in the way of variety in the woman's ensemble.

It was a mundane concern. One that had been cultivated in Seren's mind by a walk of life he left behind. As the partner to the Witch, he never put his mind on such trivial affairs. But, once, as a Prince? As the would-be King of Wolves? He set his mind upon such things quite frequently. Perhaps...when it came to Willow it would not be so bad to think as a King for a moment. "Cularin." he began, rousing himself from his thoughts long enough to answer her question. "Which is where Jenmae and I reside. It is where you will reside soon as well." Her curiosity was a rarity and she never truly asked questions. So the Wolf indulged her just a touch more.

"When I...found...you, I was in the midst of searching for something. Jenmae and I are working on something quite grand. I've finally got a lead and we need to figure out the next move in acquiring what we are looking for." He paused, thinking of what the hunt for the Nine would mean for the Spider. She had her uses - he knew she could prowl and had the gift of the Force. But she was no event horizon in the Force. If he were to bring her before one of the Nine in her current state, it may end up being a death sentence. "If you choose to come along, we'll need to make sure you're prepared." There was that word. Choose.

By now, his footsteps came to a halt before one of the nearest stores. A shop with young women clearly as the target audience - evidenced by the plastic models in the window. Each was sporting "trendy" attire: scarves, cardigans, etc. He motioned his thumb towards the entrance before fishing for his credcard in his pocket. He then offered it to the woman with a light smile. "If you'd like, you can pick up a few things here? What do you think?"

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

When they walked off the ship’s ramp Willow wasn’t met with the same blistering heat she had been the first time. Instead it was a cool, gentle heat that crept over her skin in waves. Over the past few hours the sun had slowly disappeared behind the horizon. In the distance mirages danced across the light that cast Golbah City in a hazy glow, up above the sky merged from deep midnight black to a beautiful array of oranges and yellows. Willow found a smile had wormed its way onto her face the minute the light danced across her skin. It felt like an entirely since she’d seen such a sight, the subtle pools of lavender in her eyes disappeared entirely as the shimmering sunset reflected in them.

As they walked Willow couldn’t help but note that he slowed his pace. In previous trips Willow had struggled to keep up with him, she had taken four steps for every one of his, but now? Her slender legs enjoyed the gait they were so often used too. As they paced across the orange desert dust it all seemed to coalesce for the little spider. ‘I do… But, everything is different is nice. Everything is different in comparison to Hutt space.’ She nodded in response. It felt exceedingly strange making ordinary conversation with him, as though they were friends, not servant and master.

Willow had spent the past few months labelling Seren as a beast, but everything he had done since they landed on Geonosis was a stark contradiction to her judgement. From allowing her to wander off into the crowd on her own, to picking out what they would eat, every subtle kindness wore down on her. Second by second, he was proving that there was indeed a man underneath all the twisted evil that seemed so prevalent in his life. Why he had suddenly decided to treat her like a person and not a thing to be owned was beyond Willow, but she would be the last person to complain about it.

‘Cularin.’ Willow spoke plainly. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it. Are we staying there a while?’ In all fairness she’d barely heard of half the planets in the Galaxy, never mind the fringe worlds Seren chose to spend most of his time on. Her lavender orbs turned up to face him as he spoke of the White Witch, and somewhere they could potentially call home. His choice of words, “found”, made the little spider inhale sharply, but she said nothing else. Despite his desire to treat her like a human, his actions had changed her entire perception of the Galaxy. The same sass he had been met with when they had first come across each other was no longer in her repertoire.

He spoke a little of the White Witch’s plans, and a little of his own, but that was a grey area for Willow. Up to now she had simply been going where he told her to go, but it wasn’t the subject of the topic that caused her to suddenly shoot her eyes up at him. Once more, it was his choice of words. ‘What do you mean, if I choose?’ Her flame coloured brows furrowed in the centre, spreading a look of confusion over her expression that didn’t shift even as she met the Wolf’s eye. ‘Where else would I go?’ Her question was laced with a serious tone.

Was he really suggesting that she had the option to leave? Was he forgetting that he had destroyed any claim she might have had to family in the Galaxy? Had he tucked away the fact that he had stolen everything from her? Willow shook her head suddenly, before the Wolf even had time to form an answer. She wasn’t really sure she wanted to hear it. Luckily, the latter part of his sentence gave her leave to carry on the conversation. ‘Clothes shopping?' Willow glanced up at him and scrunched her nose up, causing creases to form on the bridge. 'What kind of clothes would I even need?’ The supple leathers clinging to her body were pretty much the only set of clothes she owned, and she couldn’t imagine needing anything else.

 

[Seren]

The dull heat brought back memories.

When compared to the blistering wrath of the noonday sun, evening on Geonosis was a far more bearable experience. Though the planet still exposed the duo to a persistent ocean of warmth, the intensity was a far cry from hours prior. In fact, if Seren had to put it to words, it reminded him of the forested world Jamoura. Though the air lacked the thick humidity of the jungle, the warmth was all the same. It reminded the Wolf of the day he had met the White Witch - and how she had chose to liberate him from his sordid circumstances. When it came to the fiery-haired woman beside him...Seren had done quite the opposite. Though she led a life of larcenary, Willow had family. Stability. She had a life and a home.

And like a hammer, he had shattered that reality to pieces.

The punishment he had unleashed upon her for her craft had been prompted by his frustrations. In the moment, he looked upon the thief with the notion of how dare she? Yet, as their time together grew ever longer, the humanity within the Wolf felt...something regarding what he had done. That something urged him to offer whispers of liberty between his words. A chance to make everything right to some meager extent. In the here and now, the fiery-haired woman did accept his invitation to venture out into the capital city. And as they strode along the now-quieter streets, she answered his remarks in turn.

"Hutt Space is copper compared to the gems the Galaxy has to offer." he began, motioning with his dominant hand towards the city skyline. "There are planets that are literally just cities, for example. Or worlds covered completely in oceans or ice. Hutt Space is...well...a sackcloth compared to everything else." As he lowered his hand, he offered the woman the beginnings of a smile. "Time permitting, if you'd like, we can make a few pit stops on the way back to Cularin. There are a couple gems along the way."

It was then that Willow mentioned that she had never even heard of Cularin and inquired if they would be staying there awhile. At first, the Wolf simply nodded his head to affirm that yes they would be tarrying upon the world. It wasn't lost upon him how she responded to the word "found" either when it came to their "relationship", and thus he quickly filled the gap following her sharp inhalation. "Cularin isn't a remarkable, civilized world like Geonosis or even Hutt Space. It is quiet, but it is home."

Alas, filling the gap following her inhalation did not smooth over the moment. The little nugget of liberty - daring to say if she chose to come along had prompted confusion and a touch of severity in her tone. In that moment, the Wolf drew a deep breath and met her gaze. "Golbah City, and all metropolises like them, are ripe with opportunity. Every lighted door is the chance of a lifetime. You...You are beautiful, smart, skilled. Above all, you know how to survive." There was a pause in his train of thought as he chewed over the next words. A hammer taken to glass could never repair the broken pieces - but he would damn well try.

"The plans that Jenmae and I have laid...they are dangerous. We are playing with powers of the literal Gods. Because of this...and because of how I found you...I will not keep you chained to my side any longer. The Galaxy is yours to explore and to tame if you so wish. And, if that is your choice, know that I will not abandon you empty-handed. I will see to it that you have enough to find your footing again."

He then turned his attention towards the establishment behind them, jutting his chin towards the entrance. "Of course, should you choose to stay, diversifying your wardrobe is certainly an option. I've little experience in the minds of women, but my elder siblings never wore the same attire more than once in rapid succession. If you are of similar mind, then I will happily oblige."

Ah, the perks of a "noble" upbringing.

[member="Willow Fae"]​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

[member=Seren]​

​

Exploration had never crossed the little spiders mind. Growing up she had always been content with her lot, she had never had the chance to know anything different. Her people had disbanded across the Galaxy a long time ago, it had been just the three of them for as long as Willow could remember. When they had chanced upon Hutt Space it was a blessing, or so they thought. Such easy targets in such reachable distances. The life they made there was the life of Kings and Queens, but they’d had nothing else to compare it too. Her circumstances discovering the truth were less than appealing, but in some strange way, Willow found herself grateful for them. The opportunity to step beyond her front door and discover things she never thought possible wouldn’t come by again any time soon, if ever.

‘I think I’d like that…’ Despite her sheepish expression and her refusal to glance up from the orange dust underfoot, her tone held a hint of excitement. The Wolf had done well to paint a picture in her mind of planets filled with things she hadn’t the mind to dream of. Willow had tried her best to hide the exhilaration, but it had leaked through the only way it knew how. ‘So, if Cularian isn’t rich in any of that stuff, why did you and Jenmae pick it out? Quiet doesn’t really seem like either of your style.’ Willow had only met the witch a handful of times before this, but she had a pretty good idea of how she operated. The Wolf and the White Witch were very, very similar, but Willow still knew that he had gotten it all from her.

The next notion was one that Willow had already made her mind upon. Golbah city was indeed impressive, and she was sure there were numerous opportunities just waiting for her to discover them. But didn’t she have one right here on her doorstep already? It had come in a whirlwind of chaos and pain but it was an opportunity all the same. Why waste this one in favour of going out and hunting for more? ‘My entire life has been dangerous. Probably not half as dangerous as whatever you’re doing but still. Dangerous enough to land me in this situation in the first place.’ As they walked clouds of dust formed under her feet with each step, as though her boots were suddenly heavier. ‘I think this is as good an opportunity as anything. If it’s all the same, I think I’ll stay.’

There. She said it. He knew. There was no turning back now… but the sense of dread she had expected to feel wasn’t at all there. Where it should have been there was only excitement. Excitement for a future of unknown and untold adventure. Something Willow had never thought possible for herself. Luckily, he had moved swiftly back to the topic of a new wardrobe. The little spider let out a soft hum. Her eyes briefly travelled from her dust-covered boots to the worn-down leather wrapped around her legs. It would be nice to have a new set. She could recall when this one had been brand new, back when it was the most treasured thing she owned. It was easy to move in, it formed to her body, there were no noisy metal bits to make sharp sounds in the night. Lavender eyes shifted from her body to the wolf as she spoke.

‘I’ve never owned anything fancy, never mind enough of anything to change every day. Besides, adventuring doesn’t sound like a good time or place for all that extravagant stuff people were wearing today. Do you think we could find a shop that sells outfits like this one?’ She motioned to the cracked leather.