Xaviers!

"Alright, people, curfew's soon, so clear out!" The enforcer says, patting his rifle for emphasis. The bar begins to clear out, people used to this sort of treatment, all except one woman standing at the bar. Hair on the wild side with full-sleeve tattoos, her clothing marks her as a traveler of some sort with road-worn garments and a leather jacket resting on the bar next to her. "Hey, miss, that means you too."

"Haven't finished my drink yet," she says, not bothering to turn around.

"Well, you're finished now," the enforcer says, moving closer and hefting his rifle.

"No. I'm not." The woman says calmly, ignoring the gun being gradually aimed her way. If anything, she seems used to it. The muzzle presses against her back and she sighs, "You know the problem with those rifles they give you losers?"

The man looks surprised, not being used to back-talk. "No?"

"They suck for this sort of shit," she says, spinning and slapping the rifle out of the way so hard that the enforcer's wrist snaps. She grabs him by the throat and her eyes go from brown to golden. The man has time to think Oh shit before she slams his head into the bar.

Another enforcer runs into the bar and she frowns, "I always forget there's more than one of you. Now I'm really not going to get to finish my drink." The new enforcer's finger goes to his trigger and her body tenses.

"...I wouldn't," comes a voice from behind the enforcer. "I'm rather fond of that one."

The enforcer spins to find the new threat even as his first target's face raises an eyebrow.

It's a woman with wild, waist-length red hair and a number of piercings. Her leather jacket has black feathers sewn into the shoulders, and the leather pants she's wearing leave little to the imagination.

"Oh," she smirks, "did they not brief you on me? Or are you that eager for me to sing you your death-song?"

His thoughts quickly mirror the final conscious thoughts of his partner and he begins backing away from the redhead only to bump into the brunette. He slowly looks up to see who he's bumped into and the hammer blow catches him in the face, crumpling him to the floor. It's only then that Tereza turns her attention to the woman in the doorway, blinking the yellow out of her eyes.

"Oh, you don't have to force the wolf down on account of little old me," she laughs.

"I've missed you."

"I've... I've missed you too," she says, "Have to keep it under control so she can't find me."

"I could protect you from her. You know that. You didn't have to go."

"The pack is bigger now than it used to be. She's actively infecting people, I can feel them." She glances away before darting to pick up her jacket, "And there's a pack of them not far from here. We should go."

"...alright, but please tell me you're staying awhile this time," she sighs, making for the door.

Tereza stops, mere inches away from Sam. "I'll... I'll stay as long as I can, Sam." She licks her teeth, "Tell me you have something to eat."

"Of course I do, love."

"And I'm sorry if I'm sounding needy, I'm just feeling like I'm growing cobwebs in regions best not mentioned."

"What? Only the werewolf girl is good enough for the Phantom Queen?" As they step out into the street, she puts an arm around Sam and leaps, snagging the side of a building before vaulting onto the top of it with Sam still in tow.

"What can I say?" She chuckles, hair tousled from the leap. "You made an impression. Perhaps several," She rubs her shoulder with a wry grin.

Tereza chuckles, "Still after me about that?"

"Are you that surprised that the Battlecrow doesn't like it gentle?"

"Not really, no. You're just lucky I've never actually bitten you." She follows where ever Sam directs, seeming to easily slip back into old habits.

"I'm still of the opinion that it wouldn't do a damned thing, but I'll not press you on that," she says as she leads Tereza across a few rooftops, leaping quite enthusiastically herself.

She doesn't give a glance to the streets below, but the brunette can feel the flock doing its work around them.

"I may run out of options and have to start biting at some point. I may need a pack of my own in the future." She bounds from roof-to-roof easily, not even seeming to tire as she moves.

"Suppose I'd always wondered if we'd settle down and raise a family," she chuckles, flipping off the edge of one building and landing cleanly on another.

"...for relative terms of 'settling down,'" she smirks over her shoulder, fishing out a key and going to unlock a roof hatch.

Tereza crouches at the edge of the roof above, looking around cautiously before following Sam down to the hatch, "I always thought it might be nice to have children, but I was always hoping for something more conventional."

"When have you and I been anything resembling 'conventional'?" She muses, pulling out a matchbook and lighting a few candles around the room.

It seems she knows the locations of them well enough, through force of habit. There's cushions here and there, and some furniture that looks like it was 'liberated' from a more well-to-do property before it made its way here. A few animal pelts as well, some of which Tereza can smell the faint remnants of past visits on. It's an oddly eclectic mix of the savage and the posh, much like her hostess.

"I don't think our family was fated to ever be anything but a bit strange."

Tereza smiles at the furniture, "Been doing some additional decorating I see."

"You know how it is. I pick up things here and there. Have to make things nice if I'm to entertain guests."

"Been doing a lot of entertaining have you?" She grins, dropping into one of the chairs.

"Oh I try, but there's this girl who doesn't return my calls," she smirks.

"What can I get you? Wine? Vodka? Fatted calf?"

"Said girl might not have a phone. And I don't think you have enough vodka to get me drunk. Wine would be nice."

"So you're telling me I should just stand on a tall building and howl," she chuckles, heading behind a curtain and returning with a wine bottle and two glasses.

"Only if your howl can reach across the channel," she says with a half-smile.

"Don't give me a challenge unless you're prepared for me to meet it," she says as she uncorks the wine and pours a glass, offering it to Tereza.

Tereza takes it and sips at it, savoring the taste. "Well, it would have had to reach to Germany to get me. I was in Würzburg."

"And how'd that go? I wouldn't think she'd go back there."

"She wouldn't, but it was fruitless. I got no closer to figuring her out. On the plus side, her own aversion to the place extends to her children, so they weren't hunting me while I was there."

"There's a sort of holy terror around places like that. It lingers, even if the people forget about it."

"I could feel it, but I've taken some measures to mark me as 'not hers', so it wasn't as bad. Still, even then I couldn't properly rest there."

"Suppose I'll just have to let you sleep in, aye?"

"Maybe eventually," she says, beginning to lounge. "I'm not particularly sleepy yet."

"First encouraging thing you've said all night," she says, shrugging off her jacket and leaning towards Tereza to kiss her forehead.

She's quite a bit more built than she was in her younger years, though Tereza knows that the Morrigan always appears exactly as she intends to. The scars might be an affectation as well, but there's a line of four on a pale shoulder that Tereza remembers all too well.

"I see you decided to keep the scars," Tereza says, running her fingers along them. She shrugs out of her own jacket, her own scars worked into the tattoos that are covering her skin, including obscuring the glowing lines that used to run up and down her arms. On her shoulders, Sam can see the tips of black wings that continue out of sight onto her back. Those certainly weren't there last time.

"We both find our little ways to remember each other, don't we?" She asks, tracing a finger over the arch of one of the wings.

"Those look like good work. Where'd you get them done?"