NEPHELE
She doesn't know how long she runs. Until the sand turns to stone turns to trees, and though they are not her trees they welcome her all the same. Protecting and concealing her as she sheds her disguise and bundles it up, buries it where nobody can find it. All the while blood seeps down her side as she bares herself to only her breast wrappings and shorts, and kneels in the undergrowth to coax the Ascended fluid off the chakram she had used, letting it drip into the singular vial she had carried with her. Corking it and stringing it back upon her neck, even the pain of her stab wound cannot stop Nephele from turning her head to the sky and smiling triumphantly. Within moments she is sinking into the ocean and hissing and crying at the salt that stings away at her wound. She methodically washes the chicken blood from her skin, the clay from her hair, and when the sky greets her at last it is only these few articles of clothing and Lasracha upon her wrists that chain her any longer.
The flight to the Greatwood has never felt so long.
Everything aches. Adrenaline is not all that it's made out to be, and she feels drained from the constant stalking and surveying of her targets. Not the mention the burning, twisting ache in her side where Sunjata's dagger had taken its own version of revenge. In truth she does not make it all the way to the Village. She arrives in Ludo's woods, bare skin shivering in the slight chill of the day as she alights upon the grass. Here is where she had found her fate. Where a new door had opened and given her a second chance. It is the most peaceful place she knows, now. The Village too tainted with memories of Eriadne to have the same pull any longer.
So tired and distracted by recounting her efforts in her mind, Nephele nearly walks right past the shorter Fae that occupies the woods. Instead she comes to a graceless stop, cheeks heating as she recognizes that it is Naavi she has run into. And wearing nothing more than her necklace, Lasracha, breast bindings, and shorts. Ah, but even a crush bears no weight upon the respect she holds for the older Fae as a healer. "Hello, Naavi," she calls out softly, one hand still braced to the wound on her side that she has haphazardly bandaged as she moves a little closer.
The flight to the Greatwood has never felt so long.
Everything aches. Adrenaline is not all that it's made out to be, and she feels drained from the constant stalking and surveying of her targets. Not the mention the burning, twisting ache in her side where Sunjata's dagger had taken its own version of revenge. In truth she does not make it all the way to the Village. She arrives in Ludo's woods, bare skin shivering in the slight chill of the day as she alights upon the grass. Here is where she had found her fate. Where a new door had opened and given her a second chance. It is the most peaceful place she knows, now. The Village too tainted with memories of Eriadne to have the same pull any longer.
So tired and distracted by recounting her efforts in her mind, Nephele nearly walks right past the shorter Fae that occupies the woods. Instead she comes to a graceless stop, cheeks heating as she recognizes that it is Naavi she has run into. And wearing nothing more than her necklace, Lasracha, breast bindings, and shorts. Ah, but even a crush bears no weight upon the respect she holds for the older Fae as a healer. "Hello, Naavi," she calls out softly, one hand still braced to the wound on her side that she has haphazardly bandaged as she moves a little closer.
and I stood there waiting
even as the first drop fell
wondering why the water burned
