and like a book cover, I am what I hide
Nephele has no companion to tell her when someone approaches, no Attuned senses to rely upon to enhance her hearing or vision. All the same, the feet that move through the undergrowth are warning enough of an approaching presence. In the Greatwood, most are Fae who fly more than walk, and whose treading steps scarcely rustle the leaves and branches. Motions freezing moments before a voice calls out, Nephele lifts her head, long waves of red hair gleaming in the light that reflects off the river's surface as sharp hazel eyes scan the shore for the newcomer.
As she'd expected in the half-moment before the woman's voice met her ears, there are no delicate wings on her back. Though the fact that she is out and about in the sunlight means she is likely not an Ascended either, which keeps Nephele from rejecting her presence outright. Straightening, Nephele turns, her skirts tied up around her waist to prevent them from getting wet. "Are you lost?" It is succinct, but not unkind, as she stands there with her sifting pan in hand.
As she'd expected in the half-moment before the woman's voice met her ears, there are no delicate wings on her back. Though the fact that she is out and about in the sunlight means she is likely not an Ascended either, which keeps Nephele from rejecting her presence outright. Straightening, Nephele turns, her skirts tied up around her waist to prevent them from getting wet. "Are you lost?" It is succinct, but not unkind, as she stands there with her sifting pan in hand.
