you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

Although she had come here, to Dorian and Sebastian's home... she hadn't actually expected to see either of them. The woman purposely coming in the day when she knew the two were more or less nocturnal. She merely wanted to make herself feel better that she had tried even if it was more or less a half assed attempt. She is about to stand and leave the estate when a gasp of surprise has her head flinging up, eyes wide though the dark circles beneath her eyes are rather prominent. Dorian was perhaps, the only person she wouldn't be a complete asshole to, the faerie man a pure soul. How she had managed to become friends with the monarch was beyond her but here she was. A wary smile curls at her lips, though it hardly reaches her eyes as she looks at the man, "And do you think they would actually let me in?" She says, her words wrapped in bitterness as she stands, hesitating in place, "Dorian... I - is that a bunny?" She says after a moment, entirely distracted by the lump of fur in his arms.

Bewildered, her apology lost in her mind as she looks from the bunny back to Dorian. What on earth? The puzzlement is clearly written on her face but is soon fading away as amusement begins to glint in her eyes. It was absolutely fitting to see the monarch hold such a creature, let alone have something as a pet. "Why are you carrying around a rabbit?" She asks after a moment as she struggles to hold back a barking laugh but she refrains, hardly wanting to offend the man. After a moment, Dorian is asking her a question that draws her back to her initial reasoning of being here. A feeling of uncomfortableness falls over the assassin, her gaze diverting as she looks at the ground and shifts from foot to foot. A rather... un-Vhalla like movement, the woman always full of arrogance.

"Yes, it's been... a long time," she trails off, hardly able to meet the Monarch's eyes. Being friends with such a pure soul was difficult - how Dorian couldn't look at her and be filled with disgust was beyond her, though Vhal had enough self hatred to fill how everyone else should feel about her. "I can't stay long anyways," she shrugs nonchalantly. Not that she would ever turn down tea from Dorian, the man always wanting to offer it up - she could never bring herself to tell him that she didn't care for the taste of tea, the herbal essence that coated her tongue was unpleasant, only to linger in her mouth for hours afterwards. There was almost a wave of relief when he mentioned he didn't have tea ready, unable to hide a quick flash of her smile at him, it fades as quickly as it had come, "Actually Dorian, I came to talk... and apologize," she says slowly, those words rarely leaving her mouth.

Vhalla hardly apologized for anything, a rare few times with people who were close to her and yet, Dorian could always pull out that softer and vulnerable side. Not that she would ever admit it to him or anyone for that matter, yet, it was still clear in the lines of her face. Reaching up, she rubs the back of her neck looking rather uncomfortable as she stands in his garden, "Look, I know I've been gone for awhile," she pauses, glancing around briefly as if she were looking for someone, there was a reason why she decided to come in the day, "And I'm not sure if I can come around much but I just wanted to.. let you know," she trails off lamely, the woman clearly not used to explaining her actions.

An unfamiliar wave of guilt washed over her and she exhales quietly, her sharp eyes glancing up to meet Dorian's. She had never truly explained to Dorian what she did and why she did what she did, the woman far too fearful to hear what he would think. Just the thought causes a shiver to race down her spine. The thought of disappointing him was far too much and yet, she couldn't help but to kick herself for allowing herself to even care what someone else thought. Dragging a hand down her face, her shoulders slump with exhaustion as she takes a seat on the bench again. She shouldn't have come, emotions were messy and she was so tired, perhaps she would return to the bottle the moment she left here. The rush of words that come to her mind are lost in the swirl of emotion as she slouches on the bench seat, not looking at Dorian and instead, finding her scarred hands very interesting in that moment.

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered