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Conlang all year round – Polysemarch/Juneme in August

I’m going through 365 Conlang thingies beyond #Lexember (which is missing October…) one month a day (or so) up to August. We’re back around to Polysemarch…

…Today I get to go in circles!

The entry for the Thorne-Alder has this section on the Arran/West Coast name for the taxonomic definition:

The Alder belongs to the family of spear-leaf trees, adavijamin, where adavi is “spear-blade” and “jamin” is “leaf”. In that family, they belong to the mainer sub-family, “mainer” meaning “grove” or “family group, tribe.”

In typical calenyen fashion, the word mainer has been borrowed and mutilated into Calenyen – raimain.

(it is a common practice, when the letters in a loan word do not quite work for Calenyen, to move letters about or repeat letters. In this case, it likely started as “ramainer” and was shortened).

So… raimain is “grove”.

And it has also come to mean those that stick together clannishly. A raimain is a clique, a tight-knit group that acts similarly.


Okay, I give up on trying to do another one of these for Old Tongue quite yet, and I want to hold off on doing something with DisMayCourse, so ON TO JUNE(me) it is.

(Sh), shenera, which can be down with the modifier -eleg (a curved shape like a sideways lower-case “c”, down on the bottom of the writing to become savera, (s).

The glyph for shenera can also mean child, as the word does, and with the modifier, savera means bastard child.

Linguists theorize that the word savera came from the word savo, birth.


Morphambruary 1
Febmanteau 1
Polysemarch
DisMayCourse
Juneme
Julectury
Augovernust
Morphambruary 2
Febmanteau 2
✒️

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1166549.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Conlang all year round – Febumantau in August again

I’m going through 365 Conlang thingies beyond #Lexember (which is missing October…) one month a day up to August.

And now we’re on to Febumantau for a second round…

and that means I can do another day! Yay!

If bikbaano is Song-Day, then the second day of the week comes from a deity we haven’t visited yet.

Which means we get to see a new deity.

This one is an old deity, one of the early Ideztozhyuha gods, Oonetoonen, from the roots Oonet, The Mountain, and noonen, climb (or oonen, a sacred climb): Oonetoonen is the deity of climbing mountains, of escape, of necessary things that are hard and painful.

And Oonetoonen’s day is the second day of the week, biknoonen


For Old Tongue I’m going to start with a compound word in English, bondroll –
okay, this one requires a bit of background.

If one is Kept (a magical type of submission), the praise from one’s Keeper (they who Keep you), is heady, pleasurable.

If your Keeper wants, they can get their Kept essentially drunk on praise – roll them with the Keeper-Kept bond…. thus bond-roll.

And in another calque…

Bond is tish, a lock, a seal.
Roll ends up being Otefote means wooziness; -ef verbs the noun.

Bond-Roll, translated directly ends up tishotef

(and never mind that there was already a word for that concept in Old Tongue…)


Morphambruary 1
Febmanteau 1
Polysemarch 1
DisMayCourse
Juneme 1
Julectury
Augovernust
Morphambruary 2
✒️
Polysemarch 2/ Juneme 2

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Buffy: the Invitation (an Addergoole Crossover), Part XI

Buffy: The Invitation

Part I: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096503.html
Part II: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1100922.html
Part III: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1104619.html#cutid1
Part IV: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1108537.html
Part V: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1112216.html
Part VI: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1124762.html
Part VII: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1134781.html
Part VIII: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1139412.html
Part IX: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1146552.html
Part X: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1155478.html

Help! I’d like clever individual titles for these chapters as well – now taking suggestions for 10 and this one!

Luke made a deep growling noise in the back of his throat. “Magnolia, what did I tell you about scaring guests?”

Magnolia made an innocent expression that was ruined by the mischief in her eyes. “Wait until someone else had scared ‘em first?”

“That’s a good start,” he admitted. “Play nice, don’t feed them to any other upperclassmen, and have them back to my office in two hours. Got it.”

“Feed us?” Xander whispered. “Buff, are you…”

Buffy frowned. “Not sure. Things feel hinkey here.”

“Ah, Buffy,” Giles cleared his throat. “Please remember — things here may seem strange in ways that seem familiar. If you are in absolute need of, ah, punching someone, please do come get me before you do anything rash.”

“Got it. No punching without asking the… Librarian first.”

“Oh, ah should introduce you to our librarian. I’m sure she’d like you.” Magnolia’s smile was broad and playful.

“Magnolia,” Luke warned.

“All right, all right. Ah’ll be good. Come on, now, do you want to see the store, the pool, or the arcade first?”

She raised her answers as they all replied at once — with different answers.

“All right, so, we’ll do this in order. Pool is this way, I suppose that means you win, darlin’.” She winked at Xander, who blushed and looked away.

“Would’ve thought you’d had enough of pools,” Willow muttered.

“Hey! I resemble that remark. But, all things considered, I find I like a dip in the water as much as any red-blooded young man…” Xander trailed off to catch up with Magnolia, who was sashaying away. “Hey!”

Buffy had no problem catching up, but trailed a few feet behind to make sure Willow wasn’t getting lost. “Come on, Wills, pay no attention to Xander chasing another demon. I mean, except we probably should pay attention, in case we have to stake someone and why did Giles tell me not to ‘punch’ things? What are we going to run into down here that he had to warn me not once but twice?”

“Well, considering the wards, maybe there’s something down here that’s going to make your … s-girl senses go all wonky,” Willow offered. “And if they already know something’s amiss, maybe they know about… people like, um, like Kendra?” She flailed her hands.

“I don’t like that.” Buffy frowned. “I don’t like being underground to start with, and if I’m underground with a bunch of creepy people who might just know what I can do…” She stopped, because Xander had stopped in the middle of a doorway and was trying to back up, right into them. “Already? Xander, what—”

“D-d-devil,” he muttered, taking another step backwards, dragging Magnolia with him. She, in turn, had an amused smile on her lips and her hand wrapped around Xander’s bicep.

“Come now, that’s no way to talk about Ivette — unless you’ve slept with her.”

“Woah, woah, none of the sleeping with.” Xander put his free hand up in a “stop” gesture. “No matter what anyone’s told you, I’m not the sort of guy to—”

“Oh, come on, Xander, sometimes you are.” Buffy slid between him and the doorway, moving under his upraised arm. “Now what’s this about… oh.” There were a pair of bat wings clearly in her vision; they belonged to someone not wearing anything else, in a tub of people wearing the same thing. “Pardon us…” she slipped right back out, covering her face with her hand. It did nothing to help with the images now seared into her brain. “Was that… Were those…”

“That’s Ivette,” Magnolia purred, “with the wings. And that was Ardell and Anwell with her.” Her voice turned concerned. “That’s nothin’ strange for Addergoole, just some people having fun. The wings don’t bother you, do they?”

“It’s just that,” Buffy blinked a few times. “Okay, sorry, one moment. Wills: black-and-red batlike wings, cute ones, though, not big enough to do much. LIttle devil tail, little horns, same color.”

Willow was flipping through her notebook before Buffy stopped talking. “Skin color?”

“Freckles. White skin.”

Magnolia was looking back and forth between them in bemusement. “Y’all Grigori types or what? No-one else’s ever seen a cy’Linden party and gone ‘what type of wings did she have?’”

“Oh, hey, guys, it’s a party, maybe we should go in.” Xander pivoted and turned towards the door. He made it about half a step before Willow and Buffy grabbed him.

“Xander, Anwell and Ardell were, uh, male. quite male… Oh. Oh, the one had scales on his back, Willow.”

“Nope, nope.” Xander backed off. “Done with scales.”

“…Y’all have an interesting life, don’t you?” Magnolia frowned.

Buffy pointed a glare at her. “You knew they were there, didn’t you? And you wanted to see what we did when we saw — when we saw her wings. And maybe scale-boy’s scales.”

“Well, where did you think I was before I came to show y’all around?” she smirked. “And you should thank me. When you come here, you’ll be a leg up on the rest of ‘em if you’ve already seen it. Most people don’t get a tour.”

“All right.” Buffy paced in front of the pool door. “Wings. The girl had wings. And you were trying to see if we’d freak out.”

“GIles said not to freak, Buffy,” Willow reminded her. “So Giles knows something is going on here.”

“Oh, well, that’s no fun,” Magnolia pouted. “Not even over wings?”

“Not the first winged demon I’ve seen. I mean, usually Xander finds the pretty ones, not me, but that’s about it.” Buffy shrugged. “So you wanted to spook us. Why?”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1173922.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1164418.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Conlang all year round – Morphambuary in August Again

We’re back to Morphambuary for another two bound morphemes!

I’ve just started playing with bullet journaling, so today’s going to be a Day Name for Calenyen.

From an earlier post, I have:

From the god/dess Alivetta/Alibetto comes alittao, the art of instrumental music in Bitrani; in Calenyena, this becomes Litvaano, music (as played), and Libbaano, music as sung.

This has led to things related to music and song ending up with the suffix -v/baano.

Foremost among them is the name of the first day of the week:
bikbaano, Song-Day.

bik- by the way, is a shortening of bikdie, day; bik is used in all situations where the day is modified (holiday, song-day, birthday)


For Old Tongue, I’m going to pick another of those add-ons that are often marked by a single diacritical mark. This one, noen, means “now”, but only as attached to a verb: Stand Now, come now, destroy now.

Classically, it is marked by three lines |/ to the top right of the ideogram it is modifying. In texts using letters instead of ideograms, noen is sometimes written out and sometimes marked at the end of the word, as if the word was an ideogram.


Morphambruary 1
Febmanteau 1
Polysemarch
DisMayCourse
Juneme
Julectury
Augovernust
✒️
Febmanteau 2

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1164210.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Finding the Target

a story of Doomsday/Cloverleaf

Directly after Passing the Torch.

Sunny left Red Doomsday talking to Luke – Luke! He was a legend! – and wandered over to the group of kids – students, barely younger than she was – loitering by the picket fence.

Not Howard-, Leo- or Cabal-type, Cya had said, and Luke’s eyes had drifted over to the tall blonde with the cow horns and something had looked like relief in his posture. So not the cow-blonde that looked a bit like Howard. She looked through the rest of them.

Cya had talked her through this part. “You do what you can with your Find power, and then you try to do more than you can. So…. start with Finding the guy you can live with or the guys you can help and live with. And keep adding on qualifiers until you’re looking for a left-handed elf ranger who’s good with his tongue and knows when to shut up.”

But what if I ask the wrong thing? Sunny had asked, and Cya had smiled, a little tiredly, perhaps, and answered Then you’ll be in good company. And a year later, you’ll know what not to ask.

Lady Red Doomsday had been doing this for a long time, Sunny knew, since before that mystical End the old fae talked about. Maybe she’d forgotten how nerve-wracking it would be the first time.

“Hey,” she greeted the loiterers, while she let her power do a little walking. She had been learning finesse in the last couple years, but it was still better for, as Aron liked to say, finding Cloverleaf, not finding a particular clover-leaf..

They gave her a range of nervous and uncertain expressions, some distrustful, some almost hopeful. One of them — a redhead, tall and lanky and uncertain – was looking over at Red Doomsday.

Her power was saying him or maybe the short dark-skinned girl standing in his shadow. She decided to try her gut.

“She doesn’t do that anymore,” she said, gently, answering the unspoken question and hoping she had the right question. “I mean, it’s her, yeah, but she retired.”

“Yeah?” He eyed her, taking her in and clearly not sure what to make of what he saw. Sunny didn’t look much older than them — she wasn’t much older than them — but, then again, neither did Red Doomsday, and she was old enough to own a nation. “That’s her, though? Red Doomsday? The Lady Who Takes ‘Em?”

“Not the fanciest of her titles,” Sunny laughed, “but that’s her. Mayor of Cloverleaf.”

THe title meant nothing to him, Sunny could tell. “But she doesn’t do the taking anymore? That what you came over to tell us?”

“Well, I think of that more as a prelude,” Sunny offered. She might have her Mentor’s innate power, but she had nothing like Cya’s skill in Tempero Intinn, Control Mind. She was going to have to talk her prey into coming with her. “Because she doesn’t anymore… but I do.”

“You?” He looked at her again. “You’re gonna feed me and keep a roof over me and find me a place, after? You’re gonna Keep me?”

“You volunteering?” She shifted forward, putting herself in his personal space. He reminded her a little of Kerr, but just enough to be interesting.

He was still over a head taller than her. He looked down at her thoughtfully. “You can get me out of here?”

“Oh, that part’s easy.” She gestured at Kurt, Cya’s teleporter this year. “The question comes afterward. You want to go to Cloverleaf, or you want to be mine?”

I want to go to Cloverleaf,” the cow-horned one put in. “Don’t particularly want another collar, though.”

“I can get you to Cloverleaf. I can probably get you all to Cloverleaf.” She looked up at her target. “So?”

He looked away for a minute, but Sunny could already tell she’d hooked him. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I want assurances, but give me those and I’ll be yours for a year.”

Sunny nodded solemnly. It hid her grin of triumph. “I brought some paper so we can write something up.”

Support the Thorne-Author

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Conlang all year round – Julectury in August

I continue on my I-missed-Conlanging adventure. Today is Julectury: Write a lecture, lesson or 140 letter pedagogical tweet each day explaining how your language works.

What I’m trying to create here would be two laypeople’s introductions to the languages, because man would it be cool if I could get enough vocabulary that someone could speak either of these languages. I’ll start with one small section of each language:


Gender:
Calenyen marks three genders:
useful (bon)
useless (byon)
and beyond-use (obon)

These are marked by the initial letter of the word:
a non-palatalized consonant for useful
a palatalized consonant for useless
a vowel for beyond-use

And they are described thus:
Useful nouns fulfil a needed function or are desirable: an engineer, a wrench, a weasel
Most people’s names begin this way.
Useless nouns are unneeded or actively get in the way, or are just less desirable: a bad unskilled worker, a broken pipe, a vermin-creature
There are some people who name more-children-than-needed this way.
Beyond Use are parts of the world that are too large to be measured in such terms: the earth, the ocean, the mountains, the river, the sun, the stars.
People who can trace their ancestry to an emperor are named with a vowel, okol*, at the beginning.

*Okol is the royal vowel; a vowel in general is kol

A new word can be coined by changing the original vowel. So, a useful rat, a useless Engineer, and so on. Changing a person’s name thus is considered extremely insulting.


(I’m much less far along on Old Tongue, as I’m sure you’ve noticed…)

Use

Old Tongue could be considered a dead language, in that, up until the second generation of Addergoole, it has had no native speakers on Earth; however, it has been in use as a scholarly/academic language for Ellehemaei for centuries, and is often used as a code language between non-academically minded Ellehemaei.

Alphabet

Its writing system is an alphabet with modifying diacritical marks.

It began as a ideogramic system, the diacritical marks serving as changes to the meaning of the symbol (showing time, movement, and so on); many scholars continue to use the ideogrammic meaning of the letters to convey a secondary meaning. For instance, a clever scribe might began a page on half-breeds with an illuminated letter whose ideogrammic meaning is “bastard child”.


Morphambruary
Febmanteau
Polysemarch
DisMayCourse
Juneme
✒️
Augovernust
✒️
Julectury 2

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1161128.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Conlang all year round – Juneme in August

I’ve discovered that I missed conlanging, and as I’ve missed many months of “365 Conlang thingies beyond #Lexember,” I decided in the remains of August, I would cycle through the first 8 months twice of conlang-exercises twice.

We’re up to June!

Juneme – Document or add to your phonetic inventory a phoneme a day, or add a rule to your phonotactics a day, or a Sandhi rule a day (but not all three, that would be absurd)

See? I’m learning things every day! I had to look up Sandhi rules and phonotactics… and I think I have to try Calenyen more out loud before I can realize and Sandhi rules.

Calenyen Phonatactics:
* Two consonants appearing in a row (ketbaa, Diedreddakak) are pronounced separately, and mark a syllable break between them (ket-baa, died-red-dak-kak)

* A single consonant between syllables can belong to both syllables (lanutez lan-nut-tez)

* a palatalized consonant on its own between two syllables (Pebyab) is pronounced at the end of the first syllable as non-palatalized and then as palatalized in the beginning of the second syllable (peb-byab)

Ketbaa – mother
Diedreddakak – button-maker
lanutez – goat-hair braid, a faker
Pebyab – tiny baby goat


Old Tongue Phoneme

Ofein, a letter making the sound “o” as in the word “oh” (this is either o or o̞ in IPA, I think)

The word ofein also expresses the concept exist and is pronounced oh fine.

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Morphambruary
Febmanteau
Polysemarch
DisMayCourse
✒️
Julectury
✒️
Polysemarch 2/ Juneme 2

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1160945.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Addergoole: the Original Series – Horse-trading

Kai frowned at the charts in front of her: genealogies, descriptions, birth dates and years. You could follow patterns easily enough down any given genealogy, but that wasn’t what was making her frown.

Read on: http://www.addergoole.com/TOS/archives/1301

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1160607.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Conlang all year round – DisMayCourse in August

Turns out I missed conlanging, and as I’ve missed many months of “365 Conlang thingies beyond #Lexember,” I decided in the remains of August, I would cycle through the first 8 months twice of conlang-exercises twice.

And bog help me, it’s Dis-May-course!:

Write a speech, novel, epic poem, folk tale, or chat log a day to fill out your examples of discourse. Or one of the above if you have a real job.

Okay, so I’m going to write a line. In English, there once was a man from Kalakaig…

Subject-Object-Verb: [A man from Kalalkaig] [There] [is-past tense-long ago]

You know, I’m going to start with something I have SOME words for.

Okay, here’s some words already in my Lexicon:
kaalopato->fake, poser, someone pretending to be something they’re not, Yellow-face.
gilon-> to shout
baado, baado, “some ancestor way back in the (father’s) line.” “baa, baa” some ancestor you’re not clear on which line.
-ba possessive pronoun

A poser was shouting his pedigree

[Kaalopato] [baa-baa-ba-ne] [past tense-gilon-subject agreement]

Kaalopato baa-baa-ba-ne ulie-Gilon-tyat …

Lazy notes on vowels: ai, i, aa, a, e, ie, u, o, oo (light, chit, car, cat, let, reed, mud, note, roost)


Morphambruary
Febmanteau
Polysemarch
✒️
Juneme

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1160035.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

After the Night

After A Couple Helping Hands, Littermate, and Strange Favors, for the Finish It! bingo

Begley was out of the doctor’s office in an hour, an hour Cúmhaí had spent pacing the waiting room and irritating all of the other nervous or unhappy people who’d filled and over-filled the room. Some she recognized as other new students, others were upperclassmen. One of those, Brontes, leered cheerfully at Cúmhaí and reached out for her, only to find his hand slapped down by an invisible force.

“He’s got ideas,” she faux-apologized. “Whoever he is.”

“That’s all right. If all he has is ideas, I’m sure I could come up with something more interesting.”

“That’s definitely a possibility. But, on the other hand, you’re here because of someone, aren’t you? And it’s probably not your little brother…”

“You’re here because of your brother? On Hell Night?” Brontes’ brow wrinkled. “Seriously? I mean, You’re pretty cute, nobody—”
An invisible clearing throat caught Brontes’ attention. “Oh, you did? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I did not. But the young lady here — young woman,” the voice corrected, at an angry glare from Cúmhaí — fought very well, and her brother did as well.”

Cúmhaí’s glare — which was pointed at the sound of the voice, so it did not matter that she could feel the space he took up in the room — lessened only faintly at the praise. “I’m glad you approve.”

“You really were impressive. After four years here, I’ll be interested to see — from a distance, preferably — what you can do.” The voice chuckled. “But I’ll be going now, before Brontes’ slow brains finally figure out who I am, and he gives away the game. Miss Cúmhaí, I assume I will be seeing you, if not the other way around.”

“It’s a small school.” It might not have been the most encouraging reply, but she wasn’t all that sure that she wanted to encourage this guy.

She watched his shape leave the room and gave Brontes a thin smile. “I should go check on my brother. I hope whoever you’ve got here, you’re good to them.” She found her voice growling a bit at the end, but hey, if he’d been chasing people down like she’d been being chased, he deserved it. “They deserve it, if you landed them here.”

Brontes had nothing to say to that, and she had nothing more to say to him.


He might have been the only one with nothing to say to her in the next few days. The first thing she got was angry accusations — why had Begely rescued her, what was her relationship to him, why wasn’t she wearing his collar?

Cúmhaí’s patience was wearing thin. She had barely managed not to punch the last guy who’d asked her about a collar, and she had shown her teeth to several. It seemed to be making them back off, but the questions kept sneaking in, in between classes, during class, in the lunch room. Over half of her Cohort was wearing collars, maybe a quarter of them had a spooked look, some had bruises. And people wanted to ask her what she’d done?

Worse still, they were getting in her way. She could feel all the people filling up space, but when they got too close together, they became one amorphous space-blob. It was like the closer people’s faces got together, the more they faded, until they were one unidentifiable mess.

Her new power, Cúmhaí thought, might not have been the prettiest thing.

“So, what is it with you and this Begely kid?” another unfortunate soul asked. “I hear he helped to rescue you, and you him, on Hell Night?”

Cúmhaí turned to answer with a snarl already twisting her lips. “He’s my brother… oh.”

The man asking was tall, handsome in a slightly-creepy way, with pale skin and black hair, and too well-dressed for a school. He was raising one eyebrow inquisitively at her. “Oh?”

Cúmhaí grinned. She’d checked out the expression in a mirror, and with her new Change, it was pleasantly terrifying. “You know, if you’re trying to be all sneaky and hidden, it helps if you don’t sound like the husband in some gothic novel or something. I mean, nobody else here sounds quite that full of themselves.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looked, she thought, offended.

She smiled even wider. “So, I’m not sure if I should thank you for the help or yell at you for hurting my brother. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have needed help if you hadn’t attacked me and thrown him across the room — but, on the other hand, everyone was attacking everyone.”

“I heard that you were quite impressive Saturday morning. I — nobody expected you to hold out that long, or to fight that hard. Or to be able to fight an invisible opponent.”

Cúmhaí found herself grinning. He thought she was impressive, did she? She let the teeth show and turned the grin into something more like a snarl. “Something everyone here should know about my family — since we’re talking about rumors and stuff people ‘just heard’ here — we don’t give up and we watch our own. Begely might be a pain in the ass, but he’s my brother, and we watch after each other, no matter what.”

“I am certain everyone will be keeping that in mind,” he answered solemnly. “Especially after his defense of you, especially after the way you reacted when he was attacked in turn.”

Cúmhaí eyed him cautiously. “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me,” she admitted.

He smirked. “I am not. Generally, that is accompanied by some sort of snicker or chortle.”

“…do you always sound like this? I mean, come on, it’s a school, you’re a student. Unless you’re secretly a professor in disguise? That would explain a lot.”

“What would it explain?” He raised his eyebrows in such a perfect fashion it had to be magic.

“Well, the fact that everyone else was trying to cause damage or put a collar around someone’s neck and you, well, didn’t — you helped us out. Or the way you talk. Or the fact that you’re pretending it’s not you, when I can… smell that it’s you.”
“Smell?” His nostrils flared. “That’s certainly a useful set of Changes you’ve gotten there.”

“Yeah, yeah, dogbird. Call me a puppy and I’ll make sure you need a rabies shot.”

“You know what happens to dogs who bite humans, don’t you?”

“You were much more charming before you started in on the threatening.” Cúmhaí showed her teeth. “Now you’re just like everyone else here.”

“I hate to sound juvenile, but… you did start it.” He didn’t look like he hated it. He looked amused by the whole thing.

“I’m the one with an animal Change. What’s your excuse?”

“My excuse? I have none. I was simply trying to gossip with you about your luck on Hell Night.” His smile looked slightly wrong, too sharp or too big or too thin or maybe all three.

“We both know it wasn’t luck. It was Begely, anger, and you.” It grated on her to credit him, yet, at the same time, he had helped more than a little.

“You keep insisting I was there.”

Cúmhaí growled as she stepped up into his face and grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands. He was taller than her by almost a whole head, but when she pulled him towards her, it leveled the playing field a bit. “I keep insisting,” she snarled, “because I know it was you. The question is why you keep pretending you weren’t there.”

“Ah.” He looked down at her, eyebrows quirking, and coughed. “Maybe I wanted you to have to work a little harder to find your rescuer. Perhaps I wanted a chance to observe you when you weren’t under stress. It is possible I just like being mysterious.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “And it wasn’t because you were trying to figure out how to get a collar on me without having to permanently incapacitate Begely?”

“Miss Cúmhaí, I am fairly certain that, if I wanted to collar you, incapacitating your brother would only then mean that I would have to incapacitate you as well. No, I — can we speak somewhere more private?”

“About you collaring me? I don’t think so.”

“No.” He cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders forward. “I was thinking more about talking about not collaring you,” he whispered. “But that’s a conversation that will anger people more than, say, your good relationship with your brother or the way you managed to survive Hell Night free and intact.”

“You seem like the sort of person that can take care of yourself. And I…”

He quirked an eyebrow, seeming to guess what she hadn’t said, and why. “You did, once. With support. Can you handle yourself against a whole crew of upperclassmen intent on putting you and your brother in your places?”

“Can you?” she countered.

“Ah, well, that is the question, isn’t it? And a quite important one for both of us.” He nodded and gestured down the hall. “Shall we talk?”

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