I'm not immune to the sincerity

Brenna Morrow

a sprinter, learning to wait —

When the Quarter and civilization became too much, there was always an easy ride to the Glade.

Unlike the Domiciles, she woke with the sun here.  Not because she wanted to, enjoyed it, or that the light was less brutal on her pickled head, but because nature demanded it.  The glaring sun paid no mind to when she'd laid down, especially now that the trees had begun to turn from green to gold, and shed their leaves for the season, and the birds certainly didn't follow anyone else's clock but their own.

If there was a bar here, or she had focused on her magic well enough to be able to conjure alcohol from thin air, she probably wouldn't have bothered going back to the Quarter at all. Without one, her time was limited to as long as her supplies lasted, which appeared to be only another day or two, at best. Retrieving a simple flask from one of her pouches, she took a long drink, before tipsily stumbling onwards down the trail she'd selected for the day, after laying about most of the morning, dwelling in her own self pity, and memories.

As a young adult, Brenna would come here with her older siblings to look for peppermint bark and sweetgrass, As an adult, now, she often came to do the same thing, letting the bittersweet emotions embrace her in the quiet solitude of a place that had, once upon time, been paired with laughter, kinship, and childhood wonder.  These days, the herbs or other valuable things she discovered in her time out here were most often traded for drinks, and more rarely, food and other necessities of life. But, as children, it had provided for their family, and kept them out of her mother's hair for a while.  Her eldest brother had been the one with a short sword and dirk in those days, to protect them from whatever beasties might be met along the way, and though the ones she wore on her hip now were inferior in quality and upkeep in comparison to those she recalled him toting along, it filled her with some measure of sorrowful satisfaction that she didn't truly need him to protect her as she once had. If she was lucky, she'd spot possible game, which would provide more booze than the plants would, if she wasn't so drunk by that time that she couldn't hope to catch them, in the first place.

She hummed an unnamed tune as she wandered, without a single thought to how entirely counterintuitive such an act was, if she truly wished to find a rabbit out here. The music did little to keep her mind from straying, or her feet from stumbling on raised roots as she scanned the tree line for the telltale white bark of birches, and occasionally, the whisper of music would fade away into nothingness (or a shouted, sharp word or two at the offending root), before abruptly picking back up again.

— a marathon runner, and my ankles are sprained

walked out this morning and i wrote down this song.
i just can't remember who to send it to

Though the demigod was unable to get tipsy the way he once could, he too had come to this place in search of memories made and lost, although...never had he seen the outer brambles as they now were.

Unlike Brenna who meandered and hummed to the wind as the moment struck, Remi stood almost perfectly still, arms folded comfortably across his broad chest, head inclined at a slight angle, waist-deep in the memories that tugged at the soles of his feet like a wayward tide. He recalled so clearly what this place had once been: the barren stretch of earth marked only by a pathetic ring of branches and tangleweed that grew as best they could by the barrier. He thought even of the days (weeks, months, and years) after the barrier finally fell, and how this place had still been home.

Until it wasn't.

Remi hadn't returned to the Grounds even when it had been relatively safe for him to do so; why would he want to come back to the place where his husband and daughter had died, no matter their stories of rebirth and life in the stars? Why come back to, for all intents and purposes, the war began? Ludo's Lullaby though he might be, this place of ghosts was not meant for him. But...time had a way of healing, and as he'd been doing as of late, Remi was making a concerted effort not to be an unsociable asshole who wasted his immortality hidden away on a mountaintop.

So he stood, and listened, and remembered.

And, because of who and what he was, animals fled from his position in droves. If one were inclined to hunt, there was no better place to lay in wait or set a trap, than in the quickest path away from the Lullaby.

Brenna Morrow

a sprinter, learning to wait —

She found herself startled by the chatter of many birds, suddenly flying overhead, and was turning about to watch their progression, when a fawn suddenly burst from the brush from where she'd just been heading. Brenna took a surprisingly deft step to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with its spotted frame as it bleated past her.  And, while she should have expected the doe, as well, she did not.

Finding herself suddenly on her backside as the deer hurried after its offspring, Brenna released a yelp of surprise, and then a sigh.  She was gracelessly making her way back onto her feet when the sound of an additional, smaller animal rushing through the brush caught her attention, and caused her to stop, focusing her alcohol-blurred vision on the brambles.  Her hand found itself on the hilt of her sword, and she did her best to focus her mind on being at the ready to move said brambles to ensnare whatever little beastie was about to make its approach, raising her free hand in an attempt to magic her way into a pelt and dinner.

The first rabbit bolted through, unsuccessfully snared, zigzagging its way past her in frantic haste.  The second, however, she managed to ensnare with a circular flick of her finger, though the mental focus and expenditure of energy made her head swim.  The thorned plant tangled itself around it's hind leg as she'd wished it would, and she drunkenly scrambled forward (mostly on her hands and knees) to finish the task before it could break itself free.

One hefty thwack with her hilt and a few seconds later, she was proudly standing on her feet, with a fresh rabbit now dangling from her belt.  It wasn't until a third rabbit, and a pair of squirrels, also made their escape past her, that she had the thought: something dangerous must be ahead.

She narrowed her eyes, and gave the narrow trail a dubious, yet curious, frown.  At best, it was something worth trying to take on for a few more funds from the guilds or merchants. Maybe it would kill her, instead.  And, at worst, it was another traveler.  The first two options were enough of a motivation to send her in search of what was making the forest creatures run for their lives.

Unfortunately for her, it was a man.  He seemed to just be standing in the forest, and if she hadn't made such a giant racket making her way towards him, she might have just turned right back around, and pretended he wasn't there.  Besides, why were the animals afraid of him? she couldn't help but wonder, eyeing him somewhat suspiciously as she cleared her throat.

"You out here throwing rocks at the birds, or something?" she questioned, her voice moderately slurred.  To be fair, she did the same from time to time. She wasn't truly one to judge, and if that was honestly what he was doing, she might even consider joining him.

— a marathon runner, and my ankles are sprained

walked out this morning and i wrote down this song.
i just can't remember who to send it to

Glancing sharply over his shoulder in the direction of the yelp, the Lullaby's eyes narrowed even as his pupils grew large and predatory. It was a reflex he could hardly help nowadays, though the fact that his fingers remained free of talons and his teeth did not spread into rows of jagged triangles spoke at least a little about his self-control. He did have to shrug off a few feathers that appeared in his curls, though.

So it was that as Brenna made her way through the thicket, she'd find Remi already facing her with an expression that suggested he wasn't surprised at all to see the rabbit on her belt, even though his eyes had returned to their normal sea-glass green. 'Mmmm?' Frowning slightly, the man raises his gaze to the trees for a moment, before shaking his head and smiling a touch weakly. The magic that kept dragons and other large critters from maintaining a safe distance from the Lullaby, also terrified anything smaller which was quite a shame given how much the former-attuned enjoyed the company of animals.

"No." He confirms with an almost boyish chuckle, despite just how world-weary he seemed to be. "Perhaps it was something I said?" He suggested with a mild shrug.