Eight Intertwined

41 - Rufus

The path through the cave was just as Primrose would have originally expected: long, difficult, and overwhelming. There were a few monsters scattered about, no doubt creatures that had decided to rest there over the years due to the shelter from the snow outside, and she had to admit that they acted as a strong albeit unintentional defense to the path leading to the Obsidian Parlor. It seemed as if she was cleaning off her dagger every few minutes to make sure that it wasn't covered in the blood of some frozen beast when she arrived at her destination. The task had already proven itself to be arduous, but Primrose was nothing if not enduring in the face of hardship. Her perseverance had lasted her the past decade, and it would continue to serve her well in the future, she was sure. 

"Why so grim?"

Therion's voice pulled Primrose out of her current work of shining her dagger free of crimson stains, and she glanced up to him solemnly. He was watching her carefully, and it dawned on Primrose that this was one of the first times that Therion had approached a member of their party of his own volition. In other words, there was something that he wanted to say. He wouldn't be so careless with his interactions if he didn't have something that he was desperate to get across. 

But in that moment, Primrose was ignorant as to what it could have been, so she simply went back to cleaning her dagger, her walls already coming up as a result of the last time that she had shared a conversation with Therion. "Grim?" she echoed cautiously. 

"You look like a tiger about to pounce on its prey," Therion drawled, saying the words as if they were the most obvious observation that could have possibly been made. His hands were shoved into his pockets, making him seem as if he cared a lot less than he very blatantly did. 

Primrose finally sheathed her dagger when she was satisfied with her work on cleaning it, and she continued to stare at Therion carefully, trying to read him for any signs of something out of the ordinary. "Maybe I am. I've been hunting for a long time now," she said quietly. 

Therion's visible eye narrowed in her direction. "Well, just make sure the hunter doesn't become the hunted." His words held so many different meanings that Primrose felt as if she was liable to be knocked off her feet from the words. He was worried about her potentially falling victim to the darkness that lurked in the corners of Stillsnow, especially given how obvious the shadows had become as a result of speaking with Arianna. He had put the pieces together regarding her history with Helgenish as far as Primrose could guess, and his warning from earlier in the trip made it perfectly clear that he was worried about her specifically. The idea that she would wind up the next victim of the men of the crow was the furthest thing from either of their minds; Therion knew that she would be able to fight back on that front. He was worried about the town itself that housed the man of such danger. 

Primrose did what she could to analyze his words for a long moment, taking them in carefully despite the way that they made her heart skip a few beats. "Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing," she assured him, but she knew that the words were going to ring hollow as long as Therion was as worried as he was. "When I set a goal, I always achieve it. I'm not the sort to forget her lines at a show's finale."

The second meaning to Therion's words was not lost on her, and he was fully aware of such a fact. He continued to examine her carefully, searching for any clues to show that she was honest about what she was trying to get across. Therion only stopped looking when he found that he was at least decently satisfied with the way that her clothing hid the body that had gained her such repute back in Sunshade. It was the first sign of danger in a town like Stillsnow, and both of them knew it. 

Therion chose to not comment on the fact that they were both dancing around though, instead turning his attention to the path ahead. His gaze locked solely on the Ember as it danced in Ophilia's lantern at the front of the party. "I'll take your word for it."