Behind closed doors

Hour of the Wolfe

Fic is inspired by the song of Hour of the Wolf by Surf Curse, go listen it's beautiful & I make references to it 🩷

Summary:
Maelstrom and Carmen are a lot alike in ways they both refuse to admit.

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Cold winds brush through the thief's coat and twirl upwards with the birds into the sky. A shiver flies up her spine, her hair submissive with the wind as each curl reaches for the light of the moon. The crunching of flowers and grass beneath her heels are quiet. And despite the hands in her pockets, the ends of Carmen Sandiego's coat continue to lift with the dancing spirits of the night. Forcing her head to crane back to the late air. Carmen exhales softly, watching the wasted fog pass her by. The sky sparkles upon her grey eyes, vigorous brushes of purple and a subtle mint clouding the stars in its path to display its own catered explosion. Where the sun's solar flames shed its destruction upon the atmosphere. And the wind curls towards the gorgeous and peaceful result of the northern lights. Carmen traces the frills and colours with her eyes as they take what would normally be a midnight black and push it into something more delicate. She's never seen it before now, only images and Player's awing recount. The birds sing and hum with a blanket of sleep in their melodies.

Carmen takes another step through the woods with her eyes flickering between her surrounds (for danger) and then to the one harmless thing above her, the aurora. Her boots make light of the enriched grass, each step taking her further and further from the civilisation behind; its light pollution making the phenomena less visible. It glows brighter here, in the dark of the unknown forest.

The trees tower over her, leaves cusping through every ounce of sky they can as their branches float and shape themselves like Christmas trees. Every leaf and branch is dark beneath the burning sky. A fluttering of bird wings soars over her head, and a black beast swoops just past her and stops on a log in her path. Carmen stops, her eyes fall from the greens overhead to the crow in front of her. Her brows furrow, slightly annoyed. Its eyes peer up at her, a sharpened beak and talons flexing beneath her eyes. The crow shrieks at her abruptly, the leaves rustle.

Carmen walks toward the log, ignoring the startled crow and climbing over the obstacle easily, ignoring the threatened caw that follows. She was too close to animal territory now, Carmen guessed, straightening her coat and taking her hands from her pockets.

Just as her eyes can subconsciously swivel back to the adoring greens and muffled pinks of the sky she should've taken photos of for the team... a voice interrupts her, not a bird, something sicker.

Carmen's ears sharpen, her head snaps to the face in front of her, the voice she knew for malice and unpredictability.

"Beautiful isn't it?" She registers his precarious words a moment later. Carmen's eyes narrow as the crooked man reveals himself, standing out among the dark but not from the sinister. The crow flies away. And it dawns on Carmen why she'd dragged herself out here without backup while the team sleep. Why she'd left Player curled in her bed and abandoned her family to be non the wiser of her whereabouts. Carmen holds her breath and glares, a storm sharpening beneath her wolf-like eyes. He sent for her.

If there was any place to meet the emerald green forests that raised her old professor, it was Norway.

"Maelstrom." She says, neglecting his title with a searing on her tongue.

"Black Sheep." He says in tune, head tilted in ever the slightest way like a predator may assess their prey. Carmen crosses her arms, an old anger returns from when she had been Black Sheep. When all she felt was heated betrayal, when her holdover year was spent losing peaceful memory after memory; washed away by the truth of their allegiances. Of their motto, of the very symbol she'd coloured in red or green as a kid with her crayons, believing it to be good.