Elena hated Hiems. Everything about it really. She didn’t like being cold, especially when there was no one’s warm body to cuddle up against. She much preferred the heat and a wardrobe which let her show off her stunning curves.

But Ver was right around the corner and she was holding onto that hope as much as she rest of them…okay so maybe others had more important things to worry about in the cold than she did, but still.

She had found herself out on the streets among the dresmondi more and more these days. She was actually considering going to check out the tavern that she’d heard about and had started to make her way to where she thought it was when she happened upon a mostly empty little side street.

There was a woman there, who she could only see the back of, as well as an animal which she assumed was a dyr at first and she almost passed by without another thought. But as she was about to walk by she suddenly felt like something was…off. So she stepped back slightly and watched the young woman with the dog in observing silence.

Perhaps Elena had noticed the hesitation in the dog’s flattened ears and crouched body as it cautiously sniffed the apple slice in the teenager’s hand, tail lowered to somewhere between its hind legs – behavior that would have been highly unusual between a closely bonded Dresmondi and her dyr. Citra certainly did, though as focused as she was on the animal in front of her, she did not notice the quiet arrival behind her. With one knee resting on the ground to steady her, she crouched as still as a stone while her would-be prey took the food and backed up a few steps to eat it. Progress. Slow, but progress nonetheless. Quietly, she cut another slice and held it out to the dog that was quicker now to approach.

While it ate that piece too, she considered her options. Perhaps she could have used the makeshift satchel to her advantage – looped the rope around the dog’s neck to steady it – but when she eventually went to kill it, Citra found herself more worried about its teeth. Ideally, the dog would stay trusting and allow her to quickly slit its throat or land some other mortal injury and back away while it ran off to die. If she missed and it turned aggressive, however, she would attempt to find some way to get it to bite the stick instead of her.

For once, luck was on her side. Though initially wary, the dog warmed up to the reward of food with a speed that suggested that she was not the only person who had fed it scraps. Carefully, she finished cutting the apple into many small pieces – enough that it would take the dog a few moments to lick them up – and placed the small handful on the ground beside her, within easy striking range. Now with the dagger in one hand and the other hand free, she shifted slightly then sprang into action. While the dog’s head was lowered, one hand grabbed its fur to hold it steady while the other made to draw the dagger across its throat.

It took her a moment to fully see the behavior of the dog and realize that it was unlike what she typically saw of a dyr with their dresmondi counterpart. But while the dog was weary, that didn't mean that the dresmondi had ill-intent. Perhaps she was just being truly kind to a create in need of sustenance. She stayed where she was, silent and watching. Something about the woman seemed a little familiar but she couldn't quite place her, especially without seeing her face.

She was being observant enough though that she was able to react quickly when the dresmondi suddenly moved to attack the dog. With her telekinesis she instantly made a step forward as she pulled the dagger out of the woman's hand, catching it her own palm as she looked down at the woman with wide eyes. "Leave it alone," she demanded of the girl. Perhaps owning Echo had made her soft towards other dogs but she couldn't stand by and watch this one come to harm.

Citra made to bring the blade across the dog’s throat - then suddenly, it wasn’t there anymore. Well-worn by years of use first from her mother and then from herself, the familiar grip slipped through her fingers without warning, and the teenager turned to find herself face to face with one of the queens. The one who had given her the food last time, part of her recognized while the rest of her dealt with the sudden adrenaline rush and jolt of fear that came from an unexpected encounter with a redhead.

Leave the dog alone, Elena had demanded. Slowly removing her hand from the dog’s fur and holding it up in the air in front of her like it’s partner, Citra gave a silent nod of agreement. She could do that. She could leave both of them alone if Elena wanted. Why an Eldouir would care for a random stray, she had no idea, but as her gaze drifted from the queen’s face to the dagger in her hand, her priority lay not in answering questions anyway. “If I won’t hurt the dog,” The teenager dared to ask, nodding toward the blade, “can I have that back, Your Majesty?”

As she finally got a good look at the dresmondi she realized she had recognized her from an encounter they'd had earlier that season. What was the girl's name? It had been so brief but Elena had made an attempt to remember the names of the people she met. Something with an S maybe? Sally? Stacy? Shraya? Sintra? Yes! It must be Sintra! That sounded right!

She didn't answer the girl's question right away, keeping the knife firmly clasped in her palm. She looked between her and the dog, trying to figure out what was going and why. "Why were you trying to kill it?" she asked, not imagining that someone here might be hungry enough to feel like they needed to kill a stray dog as food. "It's not a...dyr, is it?" she asked. She had determined the dog couldn't have been this girl's own dyr but that didn't mean it wasn't 'a' dyr.

The queen’s apparent disinclination toward returning Citra’s dagger did not particularly surprise her, even if the sight of it in someone else’s hand made her antsy. She had no other weapon with which to defend herself. As Elena looked between Citra and the dog, the teenager looked back at her before slowly shaking her head. “It’s not a dyr,” She confirmed, answering the easier question first. “And I was looking for something to eat.” Still am.

It was a relief to know that at least this was about food and not murder. Certainly a big difference. She stared thoughtfully at the girl for a long moment before she sighed. "Come with me," she said casually, turning and walking back towards where she had come from. Looking back over her shoulder she would see if the girl was doing as she asked. If there was a sign of hesitation she would add. "If you want your knife back."

She would then continue to walk and make a turn to step into one of the popular taverns. Of course her presence was noticed immediately and most of the conversations feel into silence as she moved towards an empty table. "As you were," she said to the patrons. Though many of them still did not pick their chatter back up.

She'd sit down and wait for Citra to do the same, if she had even actually followed her. There was always the chance that the girl would decide it was in her best interest to run instead.

Dark eyes narrowed slightly at the queen when she told Citra to follow, turning away in a silent acknowledgment of how little she had to fear from the teenager. Quickly trying to weigh the risk of following an Eldouir anywhere against the risk of blatantly ignoring a request - an order? - Citra had hesitated, but the addendum tossed casually over Elena’s shoulder was enough to spur her into motion. She needed her dagger back.

Still cautious, she trailed behind the redhead at a somewhat awkward distance: far enough away to not be within easy reach but close enough to make it clear that she was following her. To where, Citra initially wasn’t sure, though she recognized the tavern for what it was when they drew near. Though silence fell over the patrons due to Elena’s presence, the teenager felt their eyes on her as well as she stepped through the door in the Eldouir’s wake, and the attention had her shifting slightly.

The queen sat. An implicit instruction had Citra doing the same, though she sat forward, closer to the edge of her seat rather than lounging backwards. After casting another glance around at the wary Dresmondi around her, she focused on the queen. Citra wasn’t stupid; she knew that people ate at places like this, and presumably they were here to do the same after she admitted to being hungry. What she couldn’t figure out was why Elena would care.

Elena tucked the dagger into a pocket of her cloak as they settled in and someone came to their table immediately upon sitting. "What kind of food do you have today?" she asked the dresmondi barmaid who quickly listed off a handful of items. She looked nervous and Elena saw the marks on the woman's arm of past tributes. Tributes typically earned favor from the Eldouir and she wondered if Citra had any. Should the girl's arms be visible she'd casually try to see but didn't ask.

"What is it you'd like to eat?" she asked the attempted dog killer. Elena would wait as long as necessary for the girl to answer and if did then Elena would ask for double of that item and then one of everything else as well before the barmaid scurried off. "We met before," she said to the girl. "Your name is...Sintra?" That was the closest she'd been able to get when she tried to remember. It had been a very brief encounter.

Anything, Citra almost said, so rarely given the novelty of choice that she had no particular preferences - except, maybe, the candy that Elena had given her the last time they’d met. She’d never had anything like that before and had savored every piece. Nothing like that would come from Elderkeep, however. Only from the Estate.

Something warm was the close second, and remembering that the barmaid mentioned a stew, Citra carefully offered that. She watched briefly as the Dresmondi scurried away, hands fidgeting silently under the table where the queen wouldn’t be able to see. When Elena spoke again, the teenager turned her attention fully towards the redhead. “Citra, Your Majesty,” She said with a quick nod. “I remember. You gave me the food.” A pause. “And the candy. It was really good.”

Citra! That's right! Damn, she'd been so close. She kicked herself for not remembering it perfectly but wouldn't dwell on it for too long. It was too late now. "Citra. Of course. I'm very glad you enjoyed it, Citra," she said with a smile, saying her name twice to help her remember it in the future.

There was a moment of silence as Elena thought of something to say. The people around them had slowly begun to talk and eat again, though still not to the same level as they had when they had first walked in. "How old are you?" she asked. She couldn't quite remember when the medallion had been lost and what age those who had no dyrs would be at this point. "Do you have a dyr?" It might seem like an odd question given that she couldn't obviously see one but she had met dresmondi with very small dyrs or ones who preferred to stay out of sight when she was around.

When Elena repeated Citra’s name and expressed her delight at the teenager’s appreciation of the candy, the girl in question could only hope that the redhead was as genuine as she sounded. Citra had wavered for a moment at the prospect of correcting an Eldouir – indeed, a wary caution still wondered if perhaps she should have let the queen continue to misremember her name – but this one seemed a little nicer than the others. Twice now, she had given Citra food, and as far as she could tell, the first offering hadn’t come with any strings attached. Tentatively, she found herself hoping that this would be the same.

Or, she amended as Elena began speaking, perhaps the strings were questions and the expectation to make conversation across the table. As long as the queen didn’t ask a specific question, it was a price that Citra thought she could pay, but then— Do you have a dyr? After offering up a “Seventeen” in response to the first inquiry, the teenager paused. Every Dresmondi who asked that question head the same lie: her dyr was named Solus, and he was very shy and did not like to talk. Citra had no problem attempting to sell the same story to an Eldouir, except that the consequences of Elena finding out that she had lied to her face would likely never be worth the falsehood itself. At the same time, advertising her vulnerability felt viscerally wrong, even to someone who could easily kill her with or without a dyr.

Would the queen ever find out? Citra couldn’t know. She could let Elena assume, like everyone else, that Solus was small enough to hide under her shirt, but a simple order would be more than enough to discredit that claim – and the family did have a reputation.

It was a moot point now, she realized belatedly. Surely Citra had hesitated too long over what should have been an easy question, and the silence would be a reluctant answer in and of itself, betraying any lie she might have wanted to give. Fingers twisted together under the table, the teenager held her breath and offered a very small, very short shake of the head.

Only seventeen. Meaning she'd been a mere child when the Eldouir had arrived. What age did they typically go through the ceremony? Ten? Eleven? Twelve? She couldn't quite remember. Which meant that really it was very up in the air about Citra about whether she logically had a dyr or not. The medallion was most likely was lost around the time she was old enough, but had she got her dyr just in the nick of time?

The girl took a long time to answer her question and Elena cocked her head slightly as she started to realize that the answer was probably no. If she hadn't been watching her so closely she might have missed the tiny shake of her head in reply. Sensing this might be a more sensitive topic than perhaps she'd realized, she decided not to ask any further questions in such a public place as this tavern. She offered a small, sympathetic smile, assuming this was likely a challenging situation for any dresmondi, and was saved from a further awkward pause when the food arrived with the help of two additional maidens so that it all was placed on the table at the same time.

"Thank you so much, ladies," Elena said politely to the tavern to the barmaids as they each attempted an awkward and unpracticed curtsy before shuffling away, trying not to look too uncomfortable. Elena picked up a roll and began to pull off small little morsels of it as she casually ate.

"Do you have any family around? Close friends?" she asked, trying to gauge exactly how alone this girl without bluntly bringing it up.