you will always be a monster
there is no turning back from it
there is no turning back from it
His path is tracked like that of an errant chicken lost in the jungle. Out of place, easy prey, but hiding beneath is a creature far worse. His title is more familiar to her than his name - one she had admittedly easily forgotten, as she does most of the earthbound humans. As he rests against the trunk of the tree she has chosen as her perch, Nephele tilts her head to observe him like an inquisitive bird, leg still swaying unimpeded by his presence.
“I see. I did not mean to offend you - you humans are quite forgettable.” There is no point in tempering her words to bypass the honesty when the sentiment is not a regrettable one. “I am no official leader of the Sidhe, but their safety is my concern.” Juniper is the closest they have to a leader these days, though Nephele is the looming figure in the shadow of her throne. “I have heard them speak of you. You tread softly, for a human. It does not go unnoticed.” The idiom is a compliment of great magnitude - Remi’s efforts on behalf of the Greatwood, if not the Fae themselves, has earned a grudging respect from the wary people. Adjusting on her branch, she props her elbow on her thigh and blinks down at him, the shock of her wildfire locks a sharp contrast to Ludo’s dark rags. “Why do you seek to protect the Greatwood?” A hatred for the Ascended? An attempt to earn the strength of the Fae at his back? His motivations are unknown to her, and like an unexpected chemical reaction she is both frustrated and intrigued by that.
“I see. I did not mean to offend you - you humans are quite forgettable.” There is no point in tempering her words to bypass the honesty when the sentiment is not a regrettable one. “I am no official leader of the Sidhe, but their safety is my concern.” Juniper is the closest they have to a leader these days, though Nephele is the looming figure in the shadow of her throne. “I have heard them speak of you. You tread softly, for a human. It does not go unnoticed.” The idiom is a compliment of great magnitude - Remi’s efforts on behalf of the Greatwood, if not the Fae themselves, has earned a grudging respect from the wary people. Adjusting on her branch, she props her elbow on her thigh and blinks down at him, the shock of her wildfire locks a sharp contrast to Ludo’s dark rags. “Why do you seek to protect the Greatwood?” A hatred for the Ascended? An attempt to earn the strength of the Fae at his back? His motivations are unknown to her, and like an unexpected chemical reaction she is both frustrated and intrigued by that.
but what type of monster you become
is entirely up to you
is entirely up to you
