stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires
Why yes Rory, great fucking plan: if someone is lying unconscious among the trees and roots, they're definitely going to respond to you! The blond man sighed and stepped further into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust rather than bring out the lantern again. For some reason, he had always preferred his own natural eyesight when out in the forest, no matter how lacking it was compared to an Ascended's. Having a lantern was great if he needed to figure out what exactly something was, but once his eyes had adapted to the complete dark, he found he got by rather splendidly. And besides, the snow made everything lighter. So who was he to judge her for not having a light?
But it turned out that his shitty plan wasn't so shitty in this case. A voice called back from the darkness, and Rory paused where he was, senses straining. Yes, someone was definitely moving out there: snow crunched and vegetation, mostly branches, was being rustled by the passage of someone coming closer. Rory remained where he was, figuring that was better than the two of them fumbling around, looking for the other.
Soon enough he could make out the dark shape moving between the trees. It was shorter than him, and as she called out again, her voice betrayed her as definitely being a woman. "I did," he confirmed, moving closer to reveal his own location, and to be able to better get a look at his mystery firewood collector.
It was Isla. Or was it Isla? It looked like Isla, it sounded like Isla, but also, not—the one time he'd spoken with her, in these very woods, she had been new to this land, uncertain, and while she had been comfortable enough with walking straight out into an unknown forest, there had still been something .. soft? .. about her. This rendition of her was confident in a way the other hadn't been. "Isla?" he said in surprise, studying her face in the dark. Then, a crooked smile spread over his face. "Fancy meeting you out here again. It seems we're here for the same purpose."
But it turned out that his shitty plan wasn't so shitty in this case. A voice called back from the darkness, and Rory paused where he was, senses straining. Yes, someone was definitely moving out there: snow crunched and vegetation, mostly branches, was being rustled by the passage of someone coming closer. Rory remained where he was, figuring that was better than the two of them fumbling around, looking for the other.
Soon enough he could make out the dark shape moving between the trees. It was shorter than him, and as she called out again, her voice betrayed her as definitely being a woman. "I did," he confirmed, moving closer to reveal his own location, and to be able to better get a look at his mystery firewood collector.
It was Isla. Or was it Isla? It looked like Isla, it sounded like Isla, but also, not—the one time he'd spoken with her, in these very woods, she had been new to this land, uncertain, and while she had been comfortable enough with walking straight out into an unknown forest, there had still been something .. soft? .. about her. This rendition of her was confident in a way the other hadn't been. "Isla?" he said in surprise, studying her face in the dark. Then, a crooked smile spread over his face. "Fancy meeting you out here again. It seems we're here for the same purpose."
