The Lightning Argent (open)

[Celandine]

Somewhere at a distant table, at the other side of the town in a long tavern main room, a young faun was standing her ground. Leaning over the countertop towards her, his elbows touching the wood, a man with a lazy eye, two broken teeth and perfectly groomed hair proffered her what he thought was a good deal.

"C'mon, little one," his voice whistled horribly through the gap in his teeth. "You're a rarity in these parts. A young hoofed maiden. It'd be worth it. You look of age, and you'll get paid handsomely. All the drugs you want."

Celandine remained seated, her hands balled into fists on her lap, rolled into the looser threads of her jumper. Steadily holding his gaze she glared back, her voice just as tight. Maybe it was because she was alone. Maybe it was because she looked unarmed, defenseless. Maybe it was because she looked like she was a virgin. But this beast of a pig had just come up to her like she was waiting for him, and proffered her money for services in an orgy he was organising.

Likely for rich folk. Likely in some basement hidden away in the depths of Stonevale. A secret location. But one that was filled with delicate foods and too many cushions. Where the air was filled with incense and euphoria and every crumb was laced with aphrodisiac.

If Celandine had been her mother, she would have accepted. She would have taken the money, taken the deal and used the opportunity to gain power over this wretch of a man whose only attractive feature was his hair, gained connections during the entire evening and forged another weapon in her arsenal.

But Celandine wasn't Philomel. She was herself - a young faun with very little interest in sex, who just wanted to be left alone.

"C'mon," the man chided again. "They'll be everyone who is anyone there. All the nobles passing through the town. The mayor, the priests, even the head goblin. It's an exotic night I'm arranging. You're perfect. It'll be worth your time."

"I said," she repeated through a tightened jaw, "I'm not in the slightest bit interested. You have the wrong woman."

"Oh c'mon!" He begged, leaning forwards to touch her face. "C'mon, wee lass. Augustus won't like that you've denied him."

Quickly she leant from his touch. "I don't care who your boss, or customer, or patron or whatever is. I'm not interested."