NEPHELE
down in the forest we'll sing chorus
Nephele, though on guard and waiting to defend her rose against anyone, still feels a jolt down her back all the way to the tips of her shivering wings when a soft 'oh' comes from the forest behind her. She turns on light feet, scarcely shoving off as her wings lift her from the earth. There is no refinement to her fighting skills, only a rabidness that would sooner see her dead than disappointing Vi. However, as her eyes scan over the handsome man stepping towards the tree that had been mother and shelter for the fae, she does not see any of the signs of sickness she had been studying so fervently.
He approaches slowly, posture not necessarily submissive but subdued. Respectful. Nephele hesitantly lowers herself back down to the ground and quietly takes in the man before her. He is incredibly tall, much taller than any other she has met, and part of her is awed by it. He has fierce brows but kind eyes, a sharp jaw and hair that reminds her of the young walnuts in their protective shells, copper glinting beneath the light. As he turns to speak to her, his bright blue eyes catch on her own hazel, and she inspects him further.
His sincerity wins her over, and she settles her wings against her back and steps closer to him. "Not at all," she says softly, perhaps a tad hesitantly. Still, it surprised her that it was not a lie, that it was capable of slipping off her tongue in the first place. Nephele still only had one positive experience with Outlanders, but it was enough to give Ianto the chance he wanted. "Do you need help?" is offered next, withdrawing her little bone-spade. She felt weirdly awkward, standing there and wanting to poke and prod at his kindness but unsure how to go about it. "My name is Nephele," she says instead, fishing for more information from the man even though this was a somewhat time-sensitive matter. Neph had already planted her own rose, at least. That should award her a few answered questions before she had to depart.
He approaches slowly, posture not necessarily submissive but subdued. Respectful. Nephele hesitantly lowers herself back down to the ground and quietly takes in the man before her. He is incredibly tall, much taller than any other she has met, and part of her is awed by it. He has fierce brows but kind eyes, a sharp jaw and hair that reminds her of the young walnuts in their protective shells, copper glinting beneath the light. As he turns to speak to her, his bright blue eyes catch on her own hazel, and she inspects him further.
His sincerity wins her over, and she settles her wings against her back and steps closer to him. "Not at all," she says softly, perhaps a tad hesitantly. Still, it surprised her that it was not a lie, that it was capable of slipping off her tongue in the first place. Nephele still only had one positive experience with Outlanders, but it was enough to give Ianto the chance he wanted. "Do you need help?" is offered next, withdrawing her little bone-spade. She felt weirdly awkward, standing there and wanting to poke and prod at his kindness but unsure how to go about it. "My name is Nephele," she says instead, fishing for more information from the man even though this was a somewhat time-sensitive matter. Neph had already planted her own rose, at least. That should award her a few answered questions before she had to depart.
