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Briar was normally the nocturnal sort, and she wouldn't ever give up nights with Altair, but she... also just slept, little. Once every week or two she hibernated, caught up on sleep, went comatose to the world for a solid twelve plus hours and it left her able to nap away four or five hours of the day and keep on trucking. No big deal! It left her free to do... pack shit, while Altair was sleeping. Otherwise, well, she just shadowed him.
Really, it was ironic she'd lost her own. It must've just melded with his.

She wanted to make sure the kingdom was well-protected. She was still learning the ins and outs of it, of her new job, what others could and couldn't know -- but at the end of it all, she knew how to claim something as hers, and that's all that mattered. Now, with backup, that would be easier than the time with the fucking tiger.
She didn't want a fucking repeat of that damned tiger ever the fuck again. EVER.
There were also a lot more scents around here than there ever had been back at the grove. She almost thought to tell Altair as much, that they might be better off moving somewhere else, she knew this place was important to him. What would he do without his den touching the sky, the peaks he'd grown used to, the places they had named to make up their home? No, she wouldn't suggest leaving it, not when the placement of the territory itself meant not a damn thing to her.

After the cougar, she wanted to be cautious.

Man, it was fucking bright though. Who knew months of cold, and dark, and increasing snow was something she'd gotten used to?

She paused in her steps to look out over the land. Altair's sole little peak, reaching for the sun and moon.
The sprawling fields of protected foliage, finally verdant and alive now that the plague had lifted from Mythris. Would Calyx and Lovett find the herbs they needed now to hone their crafts?
In the distance, the rocky, tooth-like foothills he had named in her honor; all framed in by the other wall of mountains that kept them safe, sheltered.
The lake that surrounded, far far far in the distance, the mighty tree she and the Zenith had just risked their lives to protect. Why? What was so special about it?

Briar shook out her pelt and kept strutting along the ridge, tail cocked over her hips, ears pressed forward.

This was her land.

She lifted a leg and let her claim dribble down the face of the rock. Spread her scent to the wind! Cover the whole BIG ASS ROCK!

There was some deep-rooted satisfaction in pissing there, nearly atop the world, unchallenged. Yes, this was her land. Hers and Altair's! Sometimes, she wondered how she got here: a beautiful and sprawling territory, a companion with which she could bare her truest and complete self, a crown atop her fiery head, her only two competent siblings lining her ranks...

And a prissy, cute little toy, heading her way. Certainly, she'd come far from the reclusive little Deadwood whelp hiding in her own den and fending off her own wit. Would her parents be proud of her? And she'd gotten it all by fighting her way to the top, tracking down the very best partner with which she was compatible - someone who had bigger ideas for her to back, to thrive in, to form to her benefit.

Even when she was done marking, she stood there as imperious as ever, smiling down on Lovett as he approached, tail flagged and chin tipped high to enjoy the breeze. Thorn soared above her with a happy caw, his shadow passing over her and pulling her attention.
She tipped her head back and, following no more than the rising adrenaline of peering over her mighty kingdom, loosed a mightier howl.

Had to establish dominance over the mountain.

Lovett joined her, as she knew he would, and together they sang to the heavens above. He was close, but she stepped closer; a rare moment of something akin to affection as she pressed them chest-to-chest, feeling even the vibrations in their bodies mingle and soar on wings of wind. Their duet stretched over the mountain and sunk into their home - Briar hoped it rattled in the bones of everyone whose ears it touched.

She howled until her breath began to fail her and she had to let the note fade out, letting her head fall with a giddy giggle; draping her head and neck over Lovett's back and nibbling fondly -if a bit roughly- over his hip.

A moment passed while she caught her breath, and then:

It's nice here, don't you think?

She'd brought them to a nice place. She had never promised anything fancy for him, only a job, but being the concubine of the Queen had to have its perks in life, right?

Briar let herself lean into his chocolate frame, purring a soft note deep in her chest at the touch of his teeth. He was not Altair, but Lovett had become quite the comfort to the Mad March Hare; as one could only do when they healed all your hurts, told you everything you wanted to hear, trailed tender touches when you passed. He had not been at her side as long as Thorn, but he had been more consistent so far than her brothers ever had been -- the fickle, rabid beasts. Cedar would keep his promise and she knew this would be their home base, that he and Calyx would return here now, to her! That everything was as right as the wonderland children could manage; the two remaining, the two worthy, stuck to the side of the best.
A trio of strength, in all their own ways. The warrior, the poisoner, and the cunning.

The Queen, Lovett's silken words reminded her. Cedar might've been king of the bloodline, Ophelia and Cypress' favorite, but Briar was queen of the fucking kingdom now.

Her venomous gaze raked her lands again, the scent of her mark strong in her nostrils, her consort tucked beneath her chin. Her mate rested in his den, glorious and perfect and as much hers as everything else inside these forming borders. No, she breathed, I couldn't have. Altair's ideas weren't hers, and she didn't need to tell Lovett that - not when she would feed him the same things the Zenith taught her, not when she demanded loyalty for him above all but herself, when the rules they played by weren't even necessarily her own anymore. But they didn't need to be to fit her. Briar was a selfish beast, and certainly she would warp things to her benefit anyway if Altair himself did not! Like Lovett himself: the toy she would not let go and had swayed Altair to let into their bed -her bed- anyway. Cedar, her favorite littermate, closer than he should've been.
They were not Altair, and he knew that. That's all that mattered. What was a royal couple without a few concubines at their beck and call anyway? As long as they both agreed, Briar saw no harm in finding a little zest in everyday life.

In savoring those who had served her well.

Her passionate touch remained, thoughtfulness rumbling audibly in her chest.

You like it here then? Happy to be a healer of the kingdom? Happy to be her whore?