Dancing in the Rain

Poppy Shore / 352 years old / countess / lady-in-waiting to Queen Mab

[amity-alder]

The Library | Amity & Poppy

[poppy-shore]

amity-alder‌:

“Amity will suit me just fine, Poppy,” she said, smiling. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” She paused for a moment, unsure of whether or not she should take her leave. There was something about the redhead that was compelling her to stay near. It had been so long since she had the opportunity to connect with anyone outside of the magi. 

“Do you travel frequently to see the different types of birds?” Amity asked, already wishing she could think of a better way to continue the conversation. She hoped Poppy did not find her too strange. 

Poppy nodded, smiling brightly. Few people indulged her stranger quirks, of which bird-watching was one. “There’s something I just find so exciting about going off into the forest with nothing but a packed lunch and a good horse. And birds really are so fascinating, don’t you think? They hop around and they fly so gracefully, and yet when they ruffle their feathers up so that they look like a little round ball? You’d hardly believe they were the same creature.”

Her cheeks tinged pink as she realised she’d been rambling. “I’m sorry. I do not get many opportunities to gush about birds. Do you often come to the library, Amity?”

[pooka-pearl]

A Mutual Friend II Poppy & Pearl: TFF Event

[poppy-shore]

pooka-pearl‌:

@poppy-shore

Pearl fluttered around the corners of the ballroom, nervously wringing her hands together. After the fight, Titus had stalked off somewhere and she hadn’t been able to find him since. Aubrey was now getting some much-needed rest, but the whole incident had left her flushed and flustered and the Shark suddenly found herself alone once again. Her eyes searched around the room for someone she could go say hello to, but this darned mask made it somewhat difficult to see. Frustrated, she went to find the nearest washroom to splash some cold water on her face.

Walking down the empty hallway where she and Rosemary had tended to Aubrey’s bloodied face, Pearl noticed a few drops of blood on the ground and grimaced. She wondered if he would want anything to do with her again after getting his nose smashed a second time on her account. Trying to put the thought out of her mind and enjoy what remained of the festivities, Pearl went to push open the washroom door right as someone opened it from the inside. Tumbling forward and crashing into whoever was exiting, she let out a startled yelp and scrambled to right herself against the doorframe. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, pushing the hair out of her face. “Are you alright? I was just—wait, Poppy? Is that you?” 

Pearl had met the lady-in-waiting several times before since Freya had gone to court, as the two had become fast friends. Although they had only been briefly acquainted, the Shark was delighted and intrigued by Poppy’s unusual demeanor and wistful kindness. Although the other woman was wearing a beautiful mask, her bright red hair was an easy giveaway as to her identity. 

Parties were a lot and, as much as Poppy loved to people-watch, she was an introvert at heart. The night was long, and she was already growing tired, but she feared leaving early and missing out on something fun.

So instead she retreated to the washroom, removing her mask for a moment and rubbing her eyes before replacing it, using the mirror to adjust the live butterflies glamoured into her hair. When she was sure that her hair was to her liking, and that she was feeling awake enough to face the music once more, she went to leave the bathroom- only to have someone fall through the door as she opened it.

“It is, yes,” she confirmed once she’d gotten over her initial surprise, looking the other faerie up and down. “Hello. Is it Lady Pearl behind there? You look amazing, whoever you are.” Her eyes darted to the corridor behind her, half expecting Freya to appear. She rarely seemed to see Pearl at court without her.

“Oh, um, I should...” Poppy moved out of the way, holding the door open for the other faerie to enter the washroom. “Come in.”

[poppy-shore]

attempted subtleties // open

[poppy-shore]

briar-rosemary‌:

Rosemary allowed her eyes to flit across the Corridors at the Fox clan territory, admiring the sheer amount of guests their event had gained. She was slightly uncomfortable at the thought of venturing this ball alone, which is why she’d been torn on whether to even make an appearance. Queen Titania was not in need of her presence here, seeing that she had decided to attend fully glamoured and in disguise with her husband the King, but she had insisted Rosemary join the festivities. Granted that the Queen was most likely attempting to edge her into deeper acclimating herself into the fabric that was Midsummer. Admittedly, she hadn’t quite ventured beyond her own comfort zone just yet even though she’d been a resident for a year… The Queen’s attempts would cause to wonder if she wasn’t growing bored of her pet and trying to rid herself of the burden without bloodshed… but then again, Queen Titania was fond of that, so that the thought made little sense. Though, Queen Titania’s ways were unfathomable by nature.

She clutched her champagne flute tightly as she anxiously scanned the crown for perhaps a familiar face when a voice interrupted her search. ‘’Oh… am I being that obvious? Even when wearing a mask?’’ she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘’Yes, this is indeed my first.’’ she uttered, glancing around once more. ‘’It’s certainly… extravagant.’’

Poppy smiled brightly. “It is my first too,” she replied, hoping to reassure the stranger. They may have only just met, but she could see the anxiety in the way she clutched her glass and glanced around the room.

Poppy immediately took it upon herself to make her feel more at ease. “Would you like to dance?” she suggested. “I don’t know many Solitary dances, but I am a fast learner. We could figure it out together?”

[poppy-shore]

attempted subtleties // open

[poppy-shore]

wtfreya-briar‌:

This party couldn’t have come at a better time. The political madness of the courts was starting to drive Freya absolutely mad, not to mention her body and her dignity had both been a little bit sore ever since her big fight with Balthazar. It wasn’t often she was glad to wear a mask, but tonight was an exception. She’d even gone to the lengths of glamouring away old scars along with the fresher cuts and bruises from their fight to avoid any questions or comments in that regard. 

It wasn’t often Freya wore a dress either, but certain occasions simply called for an outfit you could twirl about wildly, and she adored this thing- it was short and raggedy and the colour of fire. Nothing like a silly seelie dress. She was already a couple of pints of ale into the night, and standing on the fringes of some dancing crowd, toying with the hem of her dress and sipping from a refreshed glass. 

The girl who floated over- and it did almost look like she was floating in that dress- was recognizable by her hair alone. Freya did not know another living soul who glamoured winged creatures into their hair. Since it was clear that the other did not recognize her quite so quickly, Freya decided to play along. “No, I’ve been to many.” She said, heavily leaning into her rougher accent, “what about you?”

“This is my first,” Poppy said, trying not to sound too excited. This was different from the Seelie parties she was used to. The Corridors were further underground, half of the guests were in disguise, and there was less pressure to be the perfect little noblewoman her mother wanted. Not that that usually stopped her, but it was nice to have something of a reprieve from the formalities of court life.

“I like your accent. Are you a Solitary faerie?” She didn’t want to say Wolf, even if she was hoping for it to be true. A Wolf might have heard from Freya, might even have seen her since she left Shivelight Hall. And this one looked around the right age to have been playmates with her from what Poppy could see, she was even around the same height...

“Freya?” she whispered, hardly daring to hope. She couldn’t have found her already. She couldn’t have just walked up to her, could she? “Are you... you?”

[poppy-shore]

attempted subtleties // open

Poppy was drawing on every single one of the propriety lessons her mother had forced on her as a sapling, discarding those she deemed irrelevant (would anybody really care if she glamoured live butterflies into her hair? really?), and holding the others close to her chest like a shield.

Curiosity about the Fox Clan’s home would have brought her to the ball regardless, but it just so happened that she was there with a purpose. She hadn’t seen Freya since she’d disappeared into the night at Shivelight Hall, and she was anxious for any little pieces of news or gossip she could gather about her. Gossip often held a small amount of truth, and she was desperate for any information that her best friend was safe.

She moved through the crowd, champagne in hand, looking for somebody who was by themselves, who might be open to a conversation. Finally settling in on her mark, she approached with her usual graceful nonchalance, took a sip from her glass, and made a show of glancing around the room.

“Is this your first Fox party?” she asked casually.

[poppy-shore]

Poppy Shore’s outfit for the carnival

Image sources: dress, mask, hair

[amity-alder]

The Library | Amity & Poppy

[poppy-shore]

amity-alder‌:

Amity could not help but grin in response to the book’s cover. “Oh, that is exciting,” she continued, “there is nothing quite as thrilling as discovering something new.”  After the fairie was firmly back on her feet, Amity let her hands fall to her side. 

“Oh, I was not looking for anything in particular. I just like to spend time here,” Amity shrugged. “Select anything that catches my eye and just lose myself in the text. But I do appreciate your offer, truly. Thank you-” 

She hesitated, realizing she would have liked to thank the fairie by name but did not know it. 

@poppy-shore​​

Poppy broke out into a smile to match hers. Finding someone else who understood her excitement about these little things was rare. She’d learnt that over the years the hard way, often the subject of malicious gossip about how strange she was. And though she’d learnt how to ignore the wagging tongues quickly, it was always a delight to meet someone who shared her excitement.

“Lady Shore,” she said after a moment, catching the faerie’s drift a second too late. “Or Poppy. Please call me Poppy. What should I call you, Lady......?” she trailed off expectantly. 

[poppy-shore]

freya & poppy || stay with me

[poppy-shore]

wtfreya-briar‌:

Freya paused on the second step as Poppy latched onto her arm. It wasn’t a particularly tight hold and there were over a dozen ways to break it. Swing round and bring her other arm down on the inside of Poppy’s elbow to break the tension in her arm, a shove to the shoulder, a swift jerking motion of her trapped arm to free it. Hell if she asked Poppy to let go she probably just would.

Her pleading tone drained the fight out of her somewhat, and suddenly Freya was more upset and tired than angry. She heaved a big sigh and considered her options- she was kind of hungry, but eating here came with the condition that Poppy’s mother would be watching her with narrowed eyes and trying not to comment on her lack of proper manners. 

“Poppy I just-” Freya groaned an ran a hand over her face, trying to find the words to explain. Her friend wouldn’t understand, she’d always known where she belonged and she’d always been there. Freya was being pulled in a dozen different directions and she wasn’t even sure any of them were the way she wanted to go. “I need some time to think and I can’t do it properly here. I need trees! Earth. I’m sick of this place and it’s stupid fancy houses.”

Poppy was filled with concern, but not sure what she should do with it. Something told her that the more she insisted Freya stay, the more upset she would get. But it was getting late, and despite knowing deep down that Freya was more than capable of handling herself, she still didn’t want her out alone at night.

She stared ahead for a moment, weighing up her options, before speaking after a long stretch of silence. “Do you need a horse?” she asked softly. “I can ask the kitchen staff to put some food aside for you in a bag or something, so you can eat dinner when you’re ready.” She realised her hand still held onto Freya’s arm and pulled away. 

“Will you be back?” she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady. She wanted to cry, because she’d been so caught up in the excitement of having her best friend stay at her childhood home that she had missed how miserable Freya clearly was. But crying wouldn’t help anything, and it could wait until Freya was gone.

[wtfreya-briar]

Fight Like a Girl | Freya & Poppy

[poppy-shore]

wtfreya-briar‌:

“Well whether or not you’re wasting time picking up shell casings really depends on the situation. If you’re commuting a crime? Yeah, pick them up, because if police find the casings they can trace it back to the make and model of the gun so on so fourth, but in this scenario where you’re just shooting at mindless monsters that are trying to eat you? Just leave them on the floor.”

Maybe it’s a crass way to put it, but if Poppy wants to be trained to go out there she better get used to crass and cruel and all manor of other things that are on the other side of the fence.

To avoid laughing at her idea Freya just keeps her mouth shut entirely. It isn’t a bad idea necessarily, just very… Innocent. “Just aim for the head. They’ll die.” She runs her tongue across her teeth, reaching into her bag for a few empty cans to set up on a wall. “Hold it with two hands, plant your feet. The recoil might hurt your shoulder but try to keep steady.” She gestures to the cans and steps out of the way, “wanna give it a go?”

Poppy nodded solemnly, taking in everything that Freya said and filing it away for later use. 

She didn’t lift the gun until Freya was safely out of the way, lightly sitting her right index finger on the trigger before squeezing. The recoil, though expected, gave her more of a shock than she anticipated and she let out a little squeak of surprise.

“Is Rye going to be mad I hit the wall?” she asked. The cans were still exactly where Freya had put them. 

[ryes-up]

What Now? || Horror AU || Open

[poppy-shore]

ryes-up‌:

Rye relaxed a little when he saw the face on the other side of the door. At least nothing was on fire.

“Hi Poppy, come on in,” he said, waving her in and gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. “I’m not much for titles,” he said, a slightly amused smile pulling at his lips. Most people just called him by his first name, but that was usually because most people knew him before he was the chief of police.

He quirked an eyebrow at the question. Something about the innocent smile she offered gave him the impression she’d been spending far too much time with Freya, but he just smiled politely in return. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for. What can I do for you?”

Poppy stepped into the room, perching on the edge of the chair in front of Rye’s desk and delicately crossing one leg over the other.

“I don’t know if you know this, but I breed birds?” she explained. “Canaries, specifically.” It wasn’t something that she was as well-known for as her show-jumping, but it was equally as important to her. Besides, she didn’t know how much Freya had told him about her before she brought her here.

“I went home this morning, because I... I had to see it.” She knew how ridiculous it sounded, but honestly she did not have a better excuse. She’d been curious, and she’d never forgive herself if all of her animals died and she knew she’d done nothing to save them. “My horses were all...” She wrinkled her nose, not wanting to go into details. Killing them had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. “And most of my birds were, too. But three of them weren’t, so I brought them here.”

She sat forward slightly. “I know they’re safe, I know what an infected bird looks like. Can you tell the guy who took them off of me when I came in to give them back?” Poppy was protective enough to fight over few things. Her birds were one of them. 

“Please,” she added as an afterthought.

[amity-alder]

Moment of Truth | Open

[poppy-shore]

amity-alder‌:

It was strange, even for the gentle-hearted Amity, to see someone approach a stranger so easily. Midsummer City would not be known for its kindness in its final days. Amity had watched families turn on each other and parents abandon children. But this red-haired fairie approached calmy and did not seem to bear any ill will. 

It was something like a miracle. Amity pulled her bandana down, exposing her lips and nose as it hung loosely around her neck. 

“No more than two dozen,” Amity mouthed slowly. She frowned. “That I can see.” 

She turned slightly towards the other fae, keeping the infected in her sights. 

“I need to get to the pharmacy. They might notice me. You might be safer taking off. I can wait until you put some distance between us if you want,” Amity whispered, taking advantage of the proximity between the two of them. 

Two dozen. It was more than Poppy had ever fought on her own by a solid twenty, but then she wouldn’t be on her own. She’d have this stranger with her. 

She could just make out the sign for the pharmacy on the other side of the creatures. This faerie didn’t look injured, which meant she might be a healer or gathering supplies for someone else. Poppy resolved to help her if she could. Even the chance that she was helping people meant she deserved to make it back to them, in Poppy’s mind.

She reached a hand into her tote bag, digging around for the small gun she had ‘borrowed’ from the police station before setting out. “I don’t have enough bullets to take them all out, but I can cause a distraction for you?” she offered quietly.

[amity-alder]

Moment of Truth | Open

[poppy-shore]

amity-alder‌:

She moved quickly and lightly. Her backpack and gear weighed heavily on her light frame, but she had adapted to their mass. In truth, she felt untethered when she set the pack down or began to take off the goggles, bandana, or gloves. 

The infected were too close to slow down. Others baptized them with crueler names, but Amity privately felt “infected” was the most appropriate term. No one knew what they were exactly, but no one could deny that the only differentiating characteristic now was whether or not someone was infected. She intended to remain in her current category for as long as she was able. 

The dozen or so infected resting nearby complicated that desire. If she wanted to check the pharmacy for supplies, she would need to move past them.  She could use magic, yes, but doing so could draw unnecessary attention and she was only armed with a steak knife and a gun she had knicked off a security officer’s corpse. She did not have the faintest idea of how to use the gun, but she wore it on her all the same. 

She was biting her lip, weighing her options when she saw something in her peripheral vision. She turned to her left and saw someone else who seemed to be in the same dilemma. She held out her hands, one upturned in a show of peace and the other holding a finger to her lips. She waited to see their reaction, her heart pounding in her throat. 

Despite knowing that she probably could ask Freya to get some birdseed for her on one of her runs, Poppy couldn’t bring herself to do it. It would be forcing her to go out of her way, and if anything happened to her because of it Poppy would never be able to forgive herself.

She was fairly confident in her ability to defend herself following their private lessons, and managed to go to the closest pet-store to the police station and fill a tote bag with birdseed, a few sheets of sandpaper, and an iodine block. As she headed back through the desserted streets, her heart leapt into her throat when she recognised a humanoid figure as she turned a corner.

Recognising the hand gestures as friendly, she relaxed a little. Keeping quiet as instructed, she approached to stand with the other fae, noticing the cluster of creatures at the other end of the street as she did so. “How many?” she mouthed.

[wtfreya-briar]

Fight Like a Girl | Freya & Poppy

[poppy-shore]

wtfreya-briar‌:

Freya had taught things before- mostly rock climbing… Well, all rock climbing. But it wasn’t dissimilar to fighting in that you had to be willing to push yourself and face your fears. Big difference being she had far more experience teaching wolf folk who generally speaking were a lot tougher and using to using their bodies. She’d had to adapt a little with Poppy, after once almost making her cry totally by accident in one of their earliest sessions.

She chuckled, a little surprised by the girls’ choice but willing to go along with it non the less. It was just a standard revolver so it wasn’t hard to grasp the basics, and to avoid wasting real bullets she’d loaded it with rubber pellets for now, which were essentially useless against the creatures- she’d checked. (And yeah, maybe the revolver was a bit old fashioned, but it was easy to learn with and they were saving the real fire power for the experts.)

“Ready?” Freya shrugged, “I don’t know, honestly. But I do know that you don’t want to end up face to face with those creatures with only your fists to defend yourself. Way too risky, and nowhere near useful enough. So.” 

She picked up the gun, pointing it at the floor. “A few rules about guns first. If you see one always assume that it’s loaded. Always point the gun in a safe direction, especially in these training scenarios. Never point a gun at something you’re not willing to kill, and never put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”

With the barrel of the gun still aimed at the floor Freya lifted her hand to show Poppy how to use it, pointing at the rounded part in the middle. “This is the cylinder, it’s where the bullets are stored. I’ve loaded it with the rubber kind today so if we do have an incident no one should be too badly hurt. You get six rounds in the cylinder- that’s really important to remember. After six shots you’ll need to reload. You do that by pressing this button behind the cylinder.” She pushes it and gives the cylinder a small nudge with her finger so it swings out. “Now, if you’re re-loading you need to remember that the casings left in the cylinder will be very hot. So just aim the gun at the sky and let them fall to the ground, then you can put new bullets in.” She pushes the cylinder back into place, and turns the handle towards Poppy, “just hold it in your hand for a while to get a feel for it- keep your finger off the trigger- and figure out how you’re most comfortable holding it, there’s no one correct grip.”

Poppy took the gun and gently tossed it from hand to hand, getting a feel for the weight. “What do I do with the old casings once they’ve cooled down?” she asked. “Do I just leave them on the floor?” 

She’d decided that she preferred the revolver in her right hand to her left, but made a point of keeping her index finger straight and so well away from the trigger. Her left hand came up to wrap around the handle for support.

“I need to aim for the head, don’t I?” she asked Freya doubtfully. “If I want to kill the bastards.” From what she’d seen, and what she’d heard from others, those infected by the disease were extremely resilient. “Can they even die? Or would it make more sense to aim for their feet and then try to outrun them?”

[wtfreya-briar]

Fight Like a Girl | Freya & Poppy

[poppy-shore]

wtfreya-briar‌:

Poppy, though she did not share many traits with most of the Bloomsfield girls, had once been as bad as fighting as all the rest. She was lucky Freya had been near by when those creatures reached their doorstep; not to toot her own horn, but the girl would’ve been monumentally fucked without her. She’d kept the monsters at bay and gotten them both to the police’s stronghold. 

…And then almost immediately had to leave o try and help defend the Foothills, for all the good that had ended up doing. When she’d returned Poppy had expressed a real interest in learning to defend herself, with which Freya was more than happy to assist. 

They’d had a few training sessions now and she was actually getting pretty good; still hesitant some times, especially when it came to actually sparring with her friend- no matter how often Freya insisted she didn’t mind getting thrown about a bit- but she knew how to swing a punch and she was more aware of her own body.

Of course, given their current situation it was ideal to try and keep your body parts away from the things that wanted to bite them off, so some kind of weapon was important. Freya had brought a selection of things so Poppy could figure out what she was comfortable with: a gun, a hammer, a baseball bat. She had a feeling the latter would be her friends speed, but she was proficient enough in all three to teach her how to use them.

“Choose your fighter.” Freya quipped, gesturing to the weapons on the ground when Poppy came to the cleared out space they had hesitantly dubbed the training area.

@poppy-shore

Poppy knew that she owed Freya her life. She could also see that the disease running rampant was showing no signs of slowing down. She needed to be able to defend herself when Freya wasn’t around.

Their first few training sessions together had been... awful. But Poppy was finally getting the hang of basic hand-to-hand technique. It wouldn’t be too helpful in a crowd of creatures, but it was better than nothing.

Still, her eyes lit up when she walked into their training area and found actual weapons. She hadn’t thought she was ready for them, but if Freya did then she’d trust her judgement.

“The gun!!” she replied excitedly. “How do I load it? How far can it shoot?” She knelt down on the floor and ran her fingers over the bat delicately, a silent promise to try it next, before picking up her chosen weapon.

“Do you really think I’m ready?” she asked, looking up at Freya. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

[ryes-up]

What Now? || Horror AU || Open

[poppy-shore]

ryes-up‌:

Set after Back Into the Fire

People, even the officers had been throwing around the word nightmare, but that didn’t sound right to Rye. Nightmares were kinder than this. Nightmares ended. This didn’t.

“We’ve cleaned out the shops within the twenty blocks surrounding the safe zone,” Keelin explained, drawing his finger in a circle on the map laid out on the table between them. “And Freya brought another seven refugees this morning when she finished her supply run. If we don’t cut rations again or send people further out for supplies, we’re going to run out of food by the end of the month.”

“Who’s willing to go further out?” Rye asked. He knew the willingness of his force to keep going out diminished every time they cleared another shop. The further out they had to go, the more dangerous, and the smaller the groups got. As much as Rye knew he needed to take care of those in the safe zone, he wasn’t willing to push his officers on missions they may die on. Those that went knew the risks and took them anyway.

“Besides our rogue Wolf? Me and Ciril. And Maerel and his SWAT team, of course,” Keeliin answered.

“Not nearly enough,” Rye sighed, running a hand down his face. He looked at the map again and pointed out a large green patch just outside the safe zone. “The old Founders Park. DO we know how many of the creatures were there last count?”

“At least a few dozen,” Keelin answered.

“Any chance we can clear it?”

“Probably. It’s on the edge of the safe zone, so the entire force should be on board. But the fence around it was destroyed weeks ago. It’s indefensible.”

“If we can clear it though, get officers to guards the borders of it, we might be able to start planting,” Rye said. He expected the silence that followed.

Keelin just stared at him for a long moment until Rye looked up to meet his eyes. “You’re talking long term,” he said slowly.

“Short term is leading to us running out of food,” Rye pointed out. A knock at the door made him straighten up. “Run it by Maerel and Ciril, see if you can come up with a plan to defend it if we can clear it. Or see if anyone has a better idea. And figure out the next places we can make a supply run.” Keelin nodded, stepping towards the door as Rye rolled up the map.

Keelin left, leaving the door open, and Rye looked up, expecting one of the residents of his makeshift safe zone. “Something I can help you with?”

Poppy had been prepared to fight tooth and nail to keep hold of the three canaries she’d managed to rescue from her house. With her mother succumbing to the creatures soon after they first reached Bloomfield and her house in tatters, ransacked by looters soon after it became obvious that they were facing an apocalypse, her birds were the closest thing to a ‘home’ she had left.

Her resolve hadn’t counted for much when an officer insisted on confiscating the birds, and her weak, poorly-placed punches had done little to deter him. Fuming, she decided to go straight to the top. Rye Hawthorne was the chief of police, wasn’t he? She’d appeal directly to him.

Not wanting to interrupt what she was sure was a very important meeting, she knocked politely on the door before waiting to be admitted.

“Hello, Mr... Sir... I’m sorry, what is the proper way to address a police chief?” She shook her head, as though hoping to dislodge the train of thought. “It doesn’t matter. Can you help me with something?” She gave him her most innocent smile.

[poppy-shore]

Name: Poppy Shore

Age: 352

Occupation: equestrian & bird-breeder

Poppy was fortunate enough to be born into a minor noble family. Money has never been an issue, which left her with the time to pursue the things she loved: horses, and birds.

Her favourite equestrian sport by far is show-jumping, although she is also adept at dressage and cross-country riding. Over the centuries she has been known to sneak out into the Human realms to compete in their equestrian competitions, always under a different alias, and always under glamour.

Birds, while wildly different to horses, fascinated Poppy ever since she was a little girl, with their hopping little walk and their beautiful plumage, and their sweet songs, and their ability to just fly away. She received her first canary when she was still a sapling, and used the winnings from a horse-riding competition to buy another a few decades later.

Over the years, she has had exactly twenty-one breeding pairs of canaries. Initially selling their offspring to friends and family members, Poppy eventually established a link with a pet shop in Bloomfield. She supplies them with healthy, bright, fully-fledged young canaries. They give her a cut of the profit.

-

Poppy would not have lasted a day as the creatures swarmed Bloomfield, if not for Freya. Her best friend took her to the police station, insisting she stay there in safety until she returned from the Foothills.

Poppy only snuck out once, to check on her animals. The horses had been turned already, but she was able to save some of her birds, ushering them all into one cage and smuggling them through to the police station.

She mourns the loss of her animals, but she is grateful for the birds she was able to save. Their singing is a reminder that life is precious, and it’s worth fighting for.

[poppy-shore]

freya & poppy || stay with me

[poppy-shore]

wtfreya-briar‌:

Freya was not usually a person with a particularly keen desire to stay rooted to one location. Having a base was important of course, but she usually just considered that to be somewhere safe to eat and rest her head, otherwise she would wander as she pleased. So she was surprised by how much it bothered her to have been asked to leave Thornhill. Shivelight had been a fine place to stay instead, with Poppy’s company. After a short while she grew restless though, agitated.

She wanted answers but didn’t know how to get them. She wanted to wander, to think, to show Harland he couldn’t just shoo her away to a friends house and expect her to wait there for him like some good little noblewoman. So she packed up her bag- leaving behind the court appropriate dress and shoes Harland had insisted she take- and made to leave through the window of the guest room, sighing as she heard Poppy’s bright call.

It would be unfriendly to ignore her, so Freya decides to instead head out through the doorway. “Tell her I’m grateful for letting me stay, but I’m heading out now and won’t need dinner.” Her tone was short and clipped, the words thrown over her shoulder as she marched down the hallway to the stairs.

Poppy watched Freya go past her, blinking in confusion for a moment before hurrying down the hallway after her.

“Freya, wait!” She caught up to her at the top of the stairs, reaching out with one hand to grab Freya’s arm. It had only been a few hours since she’d last seen her, and Freya had seemed fine then. The sudden change had shaken Poppy more than she was willing to admit.

She knew however that Freya was half Wolf, and concluded that she was feeling cooped up for reasons connected to that. That she could be upset with her father didn’t cross Poppy’s mind at all.

“At least stay for dinner?” she tried. “And maybe the night, too? You can leave tomorrow if you still want to, but at least wait until it is light.”