#ambrose wolfsbane

[commander-gloryforge]

i haven’t drawn brose in a while i think

[dblairlaw]

Gathering herbs for the temple used to be a walk in the park. A beautiful garden that was overrun with crops tended by the local worshippers. A few months into his stay, and it was just him and the elderly worshippers. Half of their crop would die, leaving Ambrose scrambling to buy up the rest with a few pieces of gold.

A small shop of curiosity catches his eye as he searches for any potion kits or leftover herbs, drawn away from his purpose to wander through the doors. Maybe it has what he’s searching for. The full moon is tomorrow, and no wolfsbane has managed to grow since the last one.

@waveringfaith

Everything is perfect. He would know. He spent half an hour making sure everything was in its place. Making sure none of the artifacts caused any mischief. And that his stick was filled and ready. Today would be a good day... he could feel it in his bones.

Dexter taps his fingers from behind his desk, his patience already kicking in. He's prepared to wait. Hes always prepared to wait. But, just his luck, he didn't have to.

"Hello, welcome to the Potion Parlor!" He greets, giving a kind smile to his newest patron. "Looking for something?"

[red-wood-reaper]

Got my stuff from this month's NA art party done! No colors this time but I liked with doing the lines and mostly monochrome shading. I had fun with these and I'm very proud of how they came out!

Marrow Gravesong - @rightpaw

Mourynn - @manasurge

Ambrose Wolfsbane - @commander-gloryforge

Almkora - @varienttiefling

[morgacht]

HONEY IM LATE ~!

But! My VS Art Party piece is! Done!!!

I got too ambitious but I can’t even say I care I had so much fun.

Timelapse + tags under the cut.

I can barely ready my own notes but here goes I hope I get everyone. If tumblr breaks these tags I’m going to fucking bite soemthing.

@manasurge - Mourynn

@bidilfs Sparrow Dragonheart

@rightpaw - Marrow Gravesong

@wkjonesnet Zenryah

@commander-gloryforge Ambrose Wolfsbane

@dalennaugw Alkis Strikeflare

@commanderthalys Courtier Gwendolyn

@little-leaf-man Hosea Slei

@miasmastorm Nox Darkclaw

@drakeheart Decima Soulspire

@wyldblunt Lorelai (and Alan by association)

[lost-soul-in-time]

Hunger. Completely consuming him every moment he’s transformed. There hasn’t been a harvest of wolfsbane yet, leaving him completely to his own instincts. The sensibilities and reservations of a priest and sense of a man replaced entirely by the beasts wants. Wandering miles away from the temple and little village he knew, Ambrose spots his prey. A deer, antlers haloing the overarching moon that drove him here.

In an instant, his maw deep into its ribs, thick tongue lapping at the entrails and swallowing its liver whole. Blonde curly fur stained with entrails, he continues to root around the corpse. Continually stripping flesh from bone with precise flicks of its head, completely unaware of the world outside him and the prey. @waveringfaith

Oliver has memorized the names and faces of every living person that lived on his side of the forest. An apparently rabid wolf roaming the grounds was certainly not what he would’ve expected to be warned about upon one of his guards hurriedly rushing into his office. The day had dragged out uneventfully, and the prospect of something which could bring potential benefit makes him step out to investigate it himself.

The guards are ordered to stay in the castle. They’d be of no use. If the beast were to attack, Oliver had his own creatures who wouldn’t hesitate to do the same.

The smell of a fresh kill makes him slow to a halt, hand clutching the handle of his sword in precaution as he steps slowly, tentatively towards the beast. Even hunched over, Oliver could tell it easily towers over any normal human. It’s obviously incredibly destructive.

Perfect.

[waveringfaith]

Werefolk are not the most accepted type of people in society. It's unfair, and scary, but Ace has lived with it for his entire life. Him and his family have to hide, to only come out when it's safe, and to live far away from humans.

Lucky for him, he's crepuscular.

Humans don't tend to be out much when he has the most energy, the early hours of dawn and the late hours of dusk. With a well-placed cloak, he can even pass for one of them.

The temple is very nice. The garden is nicer. The priests sometimes have very tasty vegetables growing. Ace should feel bad for taking some but... they can go to the market and get more. He can't. He just wants a carrot or two for the road. He still has a long way to go before he's home again.

The irony was never lost on him. A priest of Apollo become a monster of Artemis. He’d been careful, slowing dosing himself with wolfsbane to remain calm and rational on the night of the full moon. Bitter, purple vials of his own poison to stay calm. Ambrose never worried about being seen in the temple, the only other priests ancient enough to either sleep so deeply that waking up before the sun was impossible, or they were so old that seeing him would kill them instantly.

Wandering the temple grounds, the transformed beast wanders through his favourite places. Guarding them from pretend intruders to give his form a purpose to Apollo. Stalking the edges of the garden, the dim light of the moon shining off of his curled blonde fur. A symbol of Apollo hangs from his neck, though it’s so large when he’s human it’s more of a collar and lead on the beast.

[tequatls-favorite-spoon]

my art from the na vs art party!! took me a lil bit cuz i wanted to color it and that meant cleaning up the sketches and then i wanted to shade them and hajsksldhaflk

the characters from left to right:

Quinn Teeling - @sunsrefuge

Ambrose Wolfsbane - @commander-gloryforge

Finnegän - @pinecone-enthusiast

Astrëllä - @ohpollenpowder

[silent-giant]

There’s only a half hour before the moon fully rises, the itch already in his bones and begging to break through his skin. A travelling temple of Artemis has taken the lake and cave system, meaning he must run to find a new, secluded place to spend the night. An unexplored forest waits for him, slowly stalking through it as the light burns his skin. Compelling him to change now, accept his fate and run wild.

Ambrose doesn’t notice the cottage, only seeing a tree larger enough for him to start packing his belongings beside him. Two spoonfuls of wolfsbane and a hacking cough to force it down, he sits underneath the tree and simply waits. Letting the poison sit in his stomach as his fingers twitch and tremble, the moon dancing in front of his eyes.

@waveringfaith

Owen is used to people not noticing his small cottage in the middle of, as he's heard many say, 'damn nowhere'. It's not very bright, nor does it look inhabited from the outside, which usually draws people away from it — good for everyone's safety. It may also help that there are rumours of a large bear that guards the cottage during full moons, which are technically true.

So when he notices that there is a full moon that night, he's ready for a quite night of comfortable alone time that he likely won't remember, hopefully peacefully slept through.

—

He's a bear by the time the moon's out, lazily moving around the cottage, not completely knocked out by his transformation for once.

He sees the priest almost instantly and some very basic knowledge from what little humanity he has left tells him that the priest is a safe person.

So he walks over and lays beside him with a contented sound. If he were standing, he'd easily be double the man's height.

[i-mybrunettelady]

First day of Tyria Pride 2023

Happy Pride everyone! I ran with @uselessidiotsquad and you may have seen me around :) My folder was full so no individual character screens, but as as every year, I saw some of the tumblr crowd! (And when they saw Nyra, it made my heart go brrr bc there was so much joy. My girl sparks joy for you guys. I'm,,,)

In no particular order:

Cynthia Everett - @safewarmbubbly Necromancy Barbie - @bonethot Maelgwyyn - @creativebrainrot Titania Oberonn - @commander-titania Snargle Gutslurper - @commanderyes Ambrose Wolfsbane - @commander-gloryforge Slei - @sleidog Finnegan - @moth-tea-merchant

And many others! Good to see all the shoutouts to the gw2 tumblr community as well <3

[illuminaryart]

Didn’t have time to break out the watercolors, so we were left with dull pencils instead! Agent Jadeclaw, Soft Sheep, Ambrose Wolfsbane, Ephyraa, and Xana Kyneir

[liviavanrouge]

Twst Duchess, Cobra's wife

Name: Duchess(Twisted from Aristocrats Duchess)

Gender: Female

Age: 38 years old

-

Voice Actor: Akeno Watanabe

Introduction Line: "Be careful, little one and remember ladies don't run."

-

Star Sign: Capricorn

Birthdate: January 5th

Home: Land of Pyroxene

Species: Cat Beast

Occupation: Teacher

-

Favorite Food: Seasoned medium cooked fish

Like(s): Time with Cobra and her triplets

Dislike(s): Cobra scaring Thompson

Dominant Hand: Right

Hobbies: Teaching manners

-

Legal Guardian: Duchess Adelle Bonfille

Husband: Cobra

Son(s): Toroune, Rio and Maron

Daughter: Mariana

Father-in-law: Mandrake

Mother-in-law: Night

Stepsister-in-law: Thea Vanrouge, River, Springlily

Stepbrother-in-law: Lilia Vanrouge(Married to Thea), Duke, Wolfsbane

Niece: Livia Vanrouge, Ella, Meena Vanrouge, Jubilee Vanrouge, Willowbrook Vanrouge, Dawn Vanrouge, Iguana Vanrouge, Lily Vanrouge, unnamed nieces

Nephew: Copper Vanrouge, Circuit Vanrouge, Wolf Vanrouge, Crowley Vanrouge, Dusk Vanrouge, Owl Vanrouge, Noble Vanrouge, unnamed nephews

Adoptive Niece: Silk, Maria, Lavender, Moon, Tukla/Tuk, etc

Adoptive Nephew: Golden, Silver, Shadow, Elikai, Barin, Ralph, Kuro

-

Personality: Duchess is a sweet woman who shows compassion for those around her, no matter who they are. She had a habit of being able to befriend people, no matter their rank or species, which at times can get her into trouble. She's not easily startled or afraid of others(As shown when she called Cobra handsome and unique for his appearance). She enjoys time with her children and was previously distraught when she thought her husband died when she was expecting the triplets, after being told by a soldier that he was lost during a war.

Duchess loves and cherishes her kids, teaching them manners and loving them equally. She befriends a former street thug named Thompson, who helps her raise her children. She's joyful and relieved when she finds Cobra alive, crying tears of joy and introducing their babies to him. She tends to scold Cobra who at times hisses or growls at Thompson, telling her husband that the fellow cat beast was friendly.

Appearance: When she was younger Duchess had waist length snow white hair, that would normally be in a half up half down style. Her eyes are a sparkling sapphire blue and were stated by Cobra to twinkle when light hits them. She used to wear ankle length white dresses with necklace jewelry and a white bow in her hair along with low heeled white or blue shoes.

Nowadays she wears white knee length dresses along with a white ribbon with a green sapphire in the middle. She wears medium high heels that are blue or white with little bows on the front. Her hair is chin length and a straight wavy mixture. Around her neck is Cobras old collar like necklace that she gifted him and he'd wear whenever he visited her.

-

Trivia:

-Duchess is friends with Deuce's mother, so their kids would play whenever they visisted

-Duchess taught Vil about mannerisms when the child asked

-Cobra states that Duchess was twenty-two or twenty-three when she was expecting the triplets

-It was stated that Duchess wouldn't fall in love with Thompson because her heart belonged to Cobra

-Duchess is the first to call Cobra handsome to his face

-Ambrose confirms that Duchess teaches at RSA where her son's attend

-Duchess enjoys time with Livia after meeting her niece

-Cobra says that Duchess can get a bit rude and tells Livia that his wife snapped on some men who were spreading rumors about him

-Livia comments that learning etiquette with Duchess is fun and non-pressuring

-Duchess enjoys spring due to meeting Cobra during that season

-She hates milk with her entire being but will eat food that needs milk

@anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @writing-heiress

[commander-gloryforge]

so those pants yk

so i thought that patterened part kinda looked like lace. you know. uhm. sooo uuuhhhhh. uhmmm ahaah. ass out ambrose

[ohpollenpowder]

Part 6 of our lovely [VS] (NA) party!! Lemme know if yours is here!

Rama With No Hat Captn Mai Trin Laika Blindwraith Jon Garfield [AUX] @guildwuff2 Artificer Lucasta @catmanderratmander Qirri Tinkerfist [OOPS] @ratasum Ambrose Wolfsbane [ily] @commander-gloryforge

Bamboozle The Clown [AoE] @tequatls-favorite-spoon Mínister Caudecus Finnegän [FoF] (I had to crop the photo but still had to include them, okay?)

Falconer Selena [TBBP] Freja Owlsong [VS] @leafofkudzu

Liath Slaughterclaw [OOPS] @ratasum Magiscientist Kudo @catmanderratmander Ragni Alwyn [FOOL] Rad Corduroys [HELL] Rhithwir [TDF] Henry J Harker @kamiporterbridges

[moonlit-grove]

I will be drawing more doodles and I might even add color to some.

Lucasta and Ambrose Wolfsbane are definitely getting doodled. Maybe Hosea too. Maybe a rendition of the maid wall.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

HEART'S PRICE - CHAPTER 52

*Warning: Adult Content*   

With disarming obedience, Ambrose Thorne does as Noah Hunter says.

He eats his soup and drinks the cup of tea Noah makes for him and then follows him upstairs to the large master bathroom for a shower. 

At Ambrose’s insistence, Noah joins him but only because he’s worried he might fall in his weakened state and because he is in need of a shower himself. 

Afterward, Noah sits behind Ambrose on the wide bed in his bedroom, running an old wooden comb through his long, tangled curls. 

As Noah gently picks through the snarls in his hair, he tells him about the impressions Julian Hart got from Brutus' ring and about what happened with Thomas. 

He leaves out the part about visiting his house as a Wolf and seeing the wolfsbane and about getting sick. 

When Noah finishes, though, Ambrose twists to look at him and his face is marked with pain and regret.

"I heard you," he says quietly. "I heard your Wolf-song, that night and I barely stopped myself from going to you, then. The pain in that sound... It hurt, more than I can say."

Noah looks back at Ambrose, at the lines between his brows and at the unhappy turn at the corners of his mouth and wonder what he might have done if the tables had been turned, if he could have pushed him away for his own good, even knowing how much harm it might have caused them both. 

He doesn't think he could.

"It was the song of a wolf calling for his mate and knowing there would be no answer," Noah says. "It was supposed to hurt."

"Noah..."

Ambrose reaches for Noah, traces the side of his face with his fingertips and then reluctantly withdraws his hand and turns his attention back to the pile of photos in his lap. 

He's been restraining himself, although it's clear that what he wants more than food or drink, or rest, is to touch Noah.  

In the shower, though, he'd kept his eyes and hands to himself ‘mostly’ for which Noah was grateful.  

Ambrose mis leaving it up to Noah to decide what to give him and how much and when, his forgiveness, his love, his permission and it's doing a lot to thaw the last of Noah’s anger and resentment, though he has still yet to explain himself. 

As Ambrose studies the picture of the figure standing over Brutus, arm raised, Noah moves closer so he can look at it over his shoulder and he feels him shudder with suppressed longing as Noah leans lightly against his back.

"So?" he asks, tapping the photo where the telltale glint of gold shows on the figure's hand. "Does it mean anything? Or did I get shot and make you ruin your fancy car for nothing?"

"It means something," Ambrose says and sighs, "Though it only confirms what I already feared.

He turns, interlacing Noah’s fingers with his and lifting their joined hands to his lips.

"For my own sake, Noah, I am overjoyed to have you here. To see, and touch, and love you, and to have you at my side, is heaven but for your own sake, I wish you'd stayed away. I wish you'd let Thomas keep his nasty pictures and said to hell with me. For your sake, I wish I'd never laid eyes on you."

"Ambrose..."

He leans closer and rests his forehead against Noah’s a moment, his eyes closed. Then Ambrose kisses his mate’s brow and gets to his feet, pulling Noah with him with a resigned sigh.

"Come on," he says. "There's something you ought to see."

                                                  ~ ☾ ~

Grabbing a flashlight from the drawer of his nightstand, Ambrose leads Noah out into the dimly lit hall, stopping at the top of the grand staircase, where the wall is covered in portraits of his Oakfield ancestors. 

The beam of light washes over the darkly colored paintings, most bearing the grim, antiquarian aspect of a bygone era and lands on the one Noah had noticed on the day he'd moved in. 

The one he'd thought looked a lot like Ambrose but which was too old to possibly be him.

"This is Rowan," Ambrose says, nodding up at the artwork, "When he was about my age, my apparent age, that is. You can see the resemblance, I imagine."

Noah can indeed. Rowan shares Ambrose's pale complexion, auburn hair, brown eyes, expressive mouth and dark, even brows, the overall shape of his physique and bearing are also similar. 

There, however, the likeness ends. 

Rowan's hair is shorter and a slightly darker shade, his nose thinner and more arched and his mouth has a cruel set to it that Ambrose's lacks. 

The light in his eyes, which the portraitist had done an excellent job of capturing, is cold and bitter, while Ambrose's is always warm. 

It's as if the two men were cast from the same mold  but one has a heart of fire and one of ice.

"He's a match, aye?" Ambrose asks.

"For the man in the photo?" Noah returns, blinking in surprise. 

Ambrose nods, not taking his eyes from the portrait, the twist of his mouth turning so grim he looks almost like the painting's mirror image.

"Yes, but... he's dead, right?" Noah says. "I mean, I thought the whole reason you're here is because he died and left you this house."

"Indeed, little wolf. That is the entire reason that I am here, in Spring Lakes, in this strange, ‘Gods forsaken little town’ just like the rest of the remaining occultists. I am here because my grandfather—who, as I have said, hated me with something of a passion, left me everything he could call his own in this world. I am here because Rowan Oakfield wanted me here."

"But he is dead, right?" Noah repeats. "I mean, didn't you say you were sure of that?"

Ambrose nods, fingers pressed to his lips and his other arm wrapped tight about himself.

“I thought so. Everything was in order. His council, his lawyer, that is, showed me all the proper documents. There were even pictures of his... of his corpse. But Rowan, as you've heard, was a magician, in every sense of the word. If anyone could pull off such a deception, it would be him."

"How did he die?" Noah asks, looking up at Rowan's likeness with a growing sense of dislike and unease.

"Self-inflicted gunshot," Ambrose replies, miming the act. "A hard death to fake, I'd imagine, except it was quite a while before he was found. The... remains... were so degraded, he was identified by his... well, by the clothes and accessories he wore."

"Who identified him?"

"Ah... Brutus, I think," Ambrose says. "As his son, it was expected he'd have known him well enough, I suppose and as Rowan lived here alone, it wasn't as if there was a broad field of possibilities."

"Okay... so why? What makes you think he's behind this?"

"The ring," Ambrose says. "The ring your brother took, for what his Fae love might glean of it. Seeing it reminded me of the one Rowan wore and which bore the Oakfield Crest. It should have passed to Brutus after his death but it wasn't among his things."

"So? Maybe it got buried with him. If he was... in the condition you described..."

"No. The mortuary returned all his things, everything worth saving, that is, in a box along with his ashes. His watch, his cufflinks, the mother-of-pearl buttons off his waist-coat, for God's sake. They'd have returned his ring if it were there. After you left that day, I went and checked again. It wasn't."

Noah remains silent a moment, thinking.

"There are lots a reasons a dead man's ring might not be among his things, Ambrose," he says. "Maybe he took it off before he... before he died. Maybe it just got lost."

Ambrose shakes his head. 

"Any other man, any other ring and I'd agree with you, little wolf. But this is Rowan Oakfield we're speaking of and that ring was more than just a ring to him. It was his gift-relic. Unless he was the first victim, then..."

"You think he's still alive," Noah states. "You think he's still here, somehow, orchestrating all this."

"I do," Ambrose confirms. "Rowan built this house, based on his old estate in Scotland and I'd not be surprised if he included a few secret rooms and hidden passageways while he was at it. As for the why of it all,well, that's what troubles me."

Ambrose turns to face Noah, meeting his gaze with an openness and intensity the young man can't look away from.

"There were nine, the first time," he says. "But ten, if you count my mother, the medium. Rowan would have had his own relic, of course, as well as Aengus' book of spells and Jack's lucky coin. Then, one by one, he's collected the others. The thing dearest to the heart of each, representing what they most love, what they live for, and what they can't live without. And then... Well, then there's me."

Ambrose takes a breath and blows it out, gazing up at the array of portraits with a frown.

"If Rowan intends some... reverse ritual, say... he'll need a medium. My mother was the original but as she's dead— of this, at least, I am sure, she's beyond his reach. In her stead, what more perfect medium than I, who shares something of my soul with the dragon himself? But I was my mother's Gift and I had no Gift of my own and so..."

Ambrose’s voice fades as he lapses into thought, staring at the wall without seeming to see.

"Ambrose?" Noah says, reaching out to touch his arm. He startles and then blinks, giving Noah a broken smile.

"That's why, little wolf," he sighs. "That's why I wanted you gone,and away and safe. Because you are what is most dear to me. As I told you, I've lived my life alone and not been greatly bothered by such solitude. But when I came here, I.. .I felt the loneliness a little sharper than I ever had before and I wished... I wished not to be alone anymore. And then you fell into my life and I fell in love with you and it was like... Well, it was like a gift, really."

Ambrose smiles, a whole smile, this time and reaches out to touch Noah.

"You're not only my treasure, Noah. You are my Gift. You are what I love most and what I cannot live without and that is a burden I did not wish on you. It isn't fair, to put that on another, is it? And more than that, if Rowan is taking Gifts, for whatever reason, then I fear that he will take you, as well. And nothing we've done has been able to stop him yet. I was afraid and I thought the best thing for both of us, for everyone, was for me to let you go."

The fire in Ambrose’s eyes dims with pain and Noah can't help reaching for him, stepping straight into the bands of his embrace.

"I still don't understand," Noah says. "We already knew I might be targeted because I'm important to you. Why would it matter if I'm your 'Gift' or not?"

Ambrose sighs. 

"Because, whatever Rowan intends, I don't think any of us, Thornes or Oakfields alike, are meant to come out of it alive. I thought that if only I could give you up, give away my Gift, as it were, maybe it would interrupt his plans. Even if it killed me, at least you would be safe and as much as I knew it would hurt you, I also know that you're strong. You'd have healed, in time and someday you'd have found another, someone else to love, someone else to love you. And I..."

Ambrose’s breath catches and Noah pulls him into a kiss.

"I don't want another," Noah says against Ambrose’s lips. "I want you, Ambrose Thorne. But I'm nobody's Gift. I'm your Choice, just as you are mine and I Choose you again, freely, here and now. I choose to be yours and to take you as mine, if you'll choose me in return."

"I do," Ambrose whispers, sliding his hands up Noah’s back and turning to push him against the wall. "I Choose you, Noah Hunter, my sweet little wolf, for as long as you'll have me, for as long as you'll let me have you and for as long as we both shall live."

Ambrose’s mouth covers Noah’s in a kiss like liquid fire and the young man feels his own fire awaken in reply, his hands sliding and seeking along the smooth skin beneath his shirt as he presses his body to Ambrose’s. 

Noah is ready and willing to ignite, to let his fire join Ambrose’s and burn with all the heat he desires, right beneath Rowan Oakfield's disapproving, painted gaze. 

Noah closes his eyes as Ambrose trails kisses down his throat and slips his hands, now pleasantly warm, beneath his clothes, pulling him against him even as he presses him into the wall at his back. 

Ambrose reaches a hand above Noah to steady himself and knocks Rowan's portrait to the side as he does. 

Then something clicks, Ambrose meets Noah’s startled expression with his own and with a weird sensation of surprise and helplessness, the young man tumbles backwards into space.

[nykrose]

@gossamerashes from here

Whatever vile concoction the apothecary compelled Wolfram to imbibe proved only slightly better in its effects than that of the wolfsbane it supposedly nullified. In the end, he was no longer in pain and an hour into the treatment had seen the world stop spinning. Obstinately, and to the dismay of the doctor, Wolfram seized upon the gift of fractured clarity and absconded back to his own abode.

He ended up as a boneless heap within the armchair stationed before the hearth. The desert nights were cold and for all of Wolfram’s preference for the chill, he was in this instance glad for the servant’s insistence on maintaining an evening fire.

The flames curled and flickered within the hearth, and Wolfram watched them with the unfocused gaze of a man given to daydream. He blinked, brows furrowing, when Ambrose entered into his vision. Where there was typically a cold suspicion etched into Wolfram's countenance, rested the expression of a man forcibly woken from a deep slumber. Wolfram could not determine how long Ambrose had been there. Perhaps he’d always been there. No, Wolfram was certain he wasn’t. Or was. Or—

He swallowed. His thoughts were disconnected; the leaves fallen from a tree and drifting upon a water’s surface, subject to the whims of the wind. Ambrose looked different within the orange glow of the fire. Wolfram’s eyes traced his features, wandering as aimlessly as his thoughts. Ambrose looked different, yes, but –

“You are beautiful,” Wolfram noted, his tongue loosened by numbed inhibitions. “I’ve always thought you so.”  

"I know.” If it tormented Wolfram, all the better. Vain as Ambrose was, there was no achievement in his artifice. It was not real.

He had stood there for a time, at an observational distance. Most of the household had gone to rest. He, too, was clad in nightwear, hair loose and feet bare to track wet prints across the stone floor. They would vanish by morning, before anyone was awake to wonder about it.

“Whereas, you look terrible and smell worse.” Ambrose was not known to be a flatterer. He stalked forward, a hand on his hip, a flicker of fire catching the tapetum lucidum he ought not have. “Is there where you want to be?” As Wolfram had chosen to expire there, it must be so.

Ambrose did not approve. He could scent herbs now, some known to him and some not. That did not concern him so much as the slumped posture. Wolfram looked haggard enough without waking up to the results of that come morning, or whenever he thought himself recovered enough to vacate the chair. Too soon, and not soon enough by Ambrose’s reckoning.

“Let’s get you to bed.”