halving the compass

Shylock wasn't too pleased with the way things turned out. Though her brother had been betrothed to a woman of the cliff, Shy didn't think the girl was worthy of him. Tybalt was bright and bold and beguiling; this woman was dark and dispassionate and boring. Though Shy had met the girl quite a few times, and had liked her on a personal level, she knew that this warrior woman wasn't close enough to her brother's level of intelligence to keep him happy. She was beautiful, in her own brutish way, but she was far from the most talkative or interested in meaningful pursuits.

That didn't stop Tybalt from falling for her, though. Now they were on a mission to find her, after she had left nearly a year ago. First her brother disappeared, then she followed. It seemed to foretell a fickle family full of wanderlust. Shy was jerked out of her thoughtful meandering when she brother plopped down beneath some shade. She scoffed, but stretched and lowered herself beside him. "Lazy hog." She teased him with a grin, flopping onto her side to stretch herself in the cool grass. There was a pond nearby, and perhaps soon she'd take a dip. "She better be worth all this mess."