she avoids the redsand canyon, unsurprised to find that mereo still calls it home. it brings with it memories of what she strives to forget: the saints and all the trouble they caused — and just what she has known.
mount apikuni was a rich mountain forest, appealing to her as she makes her way through the emerald pines, dusted with fresh powdery snow.
they bow beneath the weight of gathering snow, falling upon her back as she shrugs beneath the balsams' limbs, seeking shelter among them.
the world had become a raging twisting, winding mess.
her husband lay dead in a rest in akashingo. she had been sent beyond. she mourned from mountain tops as if she might see him. as if son and daughter may hear her and come away, even if she was too far. yet the sun greeted her every day and the world remained silent.
but there is a soft rustle.
a soft sound of snow shifting slightly.
and she is spinning before she knows it, wide eyes and exposed teeth.
she is just as surprised to see the stranger as the older woman is to see her. greeted with sudden movements and exposed teeth, mulberry is left to halt suddenly, ghosting back a step.
her hackles bristle along her nape, along the curve of her spine.
her position shifts to one of defense, in the chance that she is attacked.
but still, she is lone. does not want to waste her strength, precious to her for it means survival, on fighting a battle she'd much rather concede. i didn't mean to startle you.
she offers an olive branch.
and she sees it.
that olive branch, the moment of deferral. it soothed her after the ugliness of a spoiled pharaoh. this young woman is somewhere between her and makono, she thinks.
why did treva suddenly feel so old in the face of confident youth?
she smooths herself out, position still stiff even as she softens her more aggressive features.
what are you doing here?
as if treva had any claim or power to ask here! she wanted to weep, she wanted to laugh.
the general's daughter loosens her stance, easing into one that is more relaxed but not entirely guardfree. still, to feel tension melt away, even a bit, was relieving.
she would fight, if it came to it.
she was a commander, born of war. it was her unfortunate legacy as a saintborne; despite her desperate attempts to strike it from her own history book.
but she thinks her self smart enough to know when to pick her battles.
seeking shelter for the sun's descent,
she offers. with the intent of passing thru.
this was a stop on the way to her destination — as if she had one! she in fact, does not; but does not feel inclined to let this women in on that.
treva had nothing but more questions. a burning curiosity to distract her from a rippling grief.
passing to where? is something awaiting you?
her tone still carries notes of the things she left behind. a high-life and royal tidings. yet the sunken state of her features leaves her feeling and looking very far from it.
the general's daughter is called out, caught in her bluff. her personal rule was always to make it sound like she had a plan, like she was not just wandering aimlessly and making it up as she went. to admit that she didn't have a plan was dishonor upon her tactical mind.
but aside from returning to the teekons — her true home — she has no plan.
to admit that she didn't know would be to admit defeat.
to the valley below.
which was the general direction she'd been heading. from there, a pack ...if i find one suitable.
grasping, grappling. a desperation to make herself relevant once more and find purchase in something besides her mourning.
it is a risk to take in winter.
she is scheming! are you a woman of risks?
there is something in her eyes, sparkling and glittering beneath her words.
a bigger risk, the commander would argue — though does not — was remaining a loner in the winter months. food was scarce and without a pack her energies and strengths had to be carefully rationed each and every day.
she has even taken to being a scavenger for as a loner she could not afford to be picky. if a mountain lion or lynx already got to a deer carcass first: she would join the ravens in picking at whatever remained.
survival wasn't beneath her but she definitely didn't like living as a loner.
some risks.
bellatrix allows. if they make sense.