January 17, 2020, 11:21 AM
For @Andraste - this is after she finds Loinnir but before she meets Hela in BFW
The sprite descended into the canyon with grace, her small frame nearly gliding down and petite paws finding footing where others were to never step. On her back lay another form, snow white with the vaguest hints of red and pink. She'd called the small predator Loinnir after she had found him, weary and broken atop the mountain. She couldn't leave him there and invited him for a ride on her woodsmoke cape where he could rest and regain his strength. It did make her descend slightly harder than it needed to be as she tried to balance in a way that would make sure the little screech owl wouldn't slip off.
Finally she reached the canyon, dusted in a reddish sand and flecks and patches of glittering snow. It was pretty barren, even for winter, but Lumi was just glad to be on the ground again. She slowed down her pace to admire the territory she had stumbled upon. Even her albino friend opened his beady, ruddy eyes to glance at the beauty that was the canyon.
January 18, 2020, 08:01 AM
In the hours before her Mavroimë matron would relay vagrant missive that would send the fairylight into an errant little frenzy (with gringlee riposte!), the fée’s composure had been stillpond, and when she had ventured out to the redstone spires, she had dismantled all vestiges of Undómiel in her descent of the gorge. She had been here twice before, if her memory should serve correctly:
a brute of a man, entranced by her stumbling step and enquiring after the new blindness, the new scarification, the new newness within her features;
a girl, all inkwell and raven-feathered filaments, engrossed in the fairylight’s earless tune;
Lylr. Lainie.
But! she has little time to wonder where they have wandered;
for there is a young specter with a quiet step, all brushstroked sumi-e over rabbitskin parchment and overspilt rapture and owlperched; Andraste stares, ever-shameless; held fast by the imagery before her that smarts nostalgia for past familiars throughout herself like the sharp daubing of inexpert calligraphy. When they had relieved themselves of her, she had let them;
For now, though, Andraste lets an airy chirrup flute from her breast, if only to make her own presence known (if not already.)
a brute of a man, entranced by her stumbling step and enquiring after the new blindness, the new scarification, the new newness within her features;
a girl, all inkwell and raven-feathered filaments, engrossed in the fairylight’s earless tune;
Lylr. Lainie.
But! she has little time to wonder where they have wandered;
for there is a young specter with a quiet step, all brushstroked sumi-e over rabbitskin parchment and overspilt rapture and owlperched; Andraste stares, ever-shameless; held fast by the imagery before her that smarts nostalgia for past familiars throughout herself like the sharp daubing of inexpert calligraphy. When they had relieved themselves of her, she had let them;
For now, though, Andraste lets an airy chirrup flute from her breast, if only to make her own presence known (if not already.)
She halted when another form came gliding down the slope in the distance. They did not approach further than a few feet away. She felt the other's eyes prickle on her back, but observed ever the same, giving a slight bow in greeting when the other whistled an airy salutation. She was quiet for a while, not having the words to break the silence with - at least none that made sense in the context of them being there. The other was scarred more gracefully than Maegi had been, and yet she felt vulnerable in her presence more so than she'd been with her estranged aunt.
Excuse us.She breathed, her tone the ghost of melody and her expression soft like down feathers. Even Loinnir was intrigued by the stormy figure, cooing his interest.
January 26, 2020, 11:01 AM
thought i had this replied to, short post for now
“Mara tuilë,” is what she wisps in return, looking closer now upon the greyling and her cooing companion; canting her head out of curiosity towards both. By way of some manner of conversation: “There have been tales of deerlike beasts reigning these red spires, once upon a time. I ... do not know if they remain, but,” a shrug of scrawny shoulders, “I would take care to tread through this place, all ze same.”
If she minded the studious sets of eyes upon her once-felled figure, the fée did not show it. “You are ... wanderer, I take it?”
January 26, 2020, 06:06 PM
Her ears perked, the language spoken not one she understood. Assuming it was a greeting, she continued to listen to the lightning storm with a slight smile 'pon her face.
Deerlike?She mused in return.
Then what are they?She could not imagine a deer as beastly - they frolicked so very carefully whenever she'd been near enough to spot them. Their mannerisms reminded her of her own, and she doubted others used "beastly" to describe her.
She nodded.
I'm Lumiya - my friend here is Loinnir.She was usually less talkative, but the lady interested her.
Your greeting - what language was that? Where did it come from?Ever-curious, she continued seeking the answers to explain the world around her.
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