I suppose to them
it's a terrifying thought
it's a terrifying thought
A voice calls out from the impending twilight.
Now, this would not be so abnormal as an isolated event. Farmers sing their rhythmic working songs, adventurers mutter to themselves, squeals of shock and cries for help are all commonplace. Nephele does not often pay them mind, high above the woes of short-lived humans and the earth that they inhabit. Now, with Ludo's rags an ever-present warmth around her shoulders, not only does she feel more inclined to travel in the darker, colder hours, but there is a mission of sorts that drives her to interact more with the flightless souls beneath.
Except the song she hears, beckoning and bell-like through the barren canopies below, is no working song. It is a come hither, a cajoling sort, and though she is not the creature the woman beckons Nephele is drawn inward nevertheless.
The lantern alone is enough to spot the traveler, even if she did not have pale hair and a glittering, starlit companion. A whale. Copper mane tilts in the avian way she has, inspecting the companion instead of the woman as the silver veins of her wings catch the lantern's light. Few starwhales are currently bonded, and one in particular she knows belongs to a woman she seeks quite ardently. All together, there is no reason not to interrupt the singer's evening.
Descending upon the lowest branch she can find - reluctant as ever to feel the chill of snow and wetness upon her feet - Nephele sits primly upon the weathered bark, feet swinging childishly as her hawklike gaze narrows upon Amalia. "You seek the Spark Bird. Are you preparing for LongNight, then?" Concealing her own admittedly uneducated opinion about the Grounders using the graciousness of the Spark Bird, falling instead into her natural inquisitiveness.
Now, this would not be so abnormal as an isolated event. Farmers sing their rhythmic working songs, adventurers mutter to themselves, squeals of shock and cries for help are all commonplace. Nephele does not often pay them mind, high above the woes of short-lived humans and the earth that they inhabit. Now, with Ludo's rags an ever-present warmth around her shoulders, not only does she feel more inclined to travel in the darker, colder hours, but there is a mission of sorts that drives her to interact more with the flightless souls beneath.
Except the song she hears, beckoning and bell-like through the barren canopies below, is no working song. It is a come hither, a cajoling sort, and though she is not the creature the woman beckons Nephele is drawn inward nevertheless.
The lantern alone is enough to spot the traveler, even if she did not have pale hair and a glittering, starlit companion. A whale. Copper mane tilts in the avian way she has, inspecting the companion instead of the woman as the silver veins of her wings catch the lantern's light. Few starwhales are currently bonded, and one in particular she knows belongs to a woman she seeks quite ardently. All together, there is no reason not to interrupt the singer's evening.
Descending upon the lowest branch she can find - reluctant as ever to feel the chill of snow and wetness upon her feet - Nephele sits primly upon the weathered bark, feet swinging childishly as her hawklike gaze narrows upon Amalia. "You seek the Spark Bird. Are you preparing for LongNight, then?" Concealing her own admittedly uneducated opinion about the Grounders using the graciousness of the Spark Bird, falling instead into her natural inquisitiveness.
that red riding hood knew exactly what she was doing
when she let the wild in
when she let the wild in
