'perhaps it's too long a journey for a wretched prune such as yourself.'
the mind whispered, and she knew it to be true. if anything, her beloved hræsvelgr was just that: her conscience. set upon her to fill the void and balance the scales. it's unheard, after all. just a joining of words passing behind each eye, the ivy crawling beneath a dense wood: hræsvelgr. he had been special to her, in life. too special and too necessary to simply do without. her back felt bare without his claws; his death had left her feeling too alone. even when in flight, she yearned for the blackened reach of his wing span grazing hers; his deathly caw announcing the arrival of others. he would not have allowed the swan to come so close, not without making her aware of his approach. his voice was a blight, much like her own existence. and it brought a crawl beneath her flesh, reinvigorating her ire with every pass of each syllable. her teeth clenched behind the curve of her frown. ' poison. ' it was a phrasal sneer, slicked against her mouth; offered from the side of her lips.
it was a spoken as a gesture meant to keep him guessing: just what were her motives? it was an incantation, a guarded word to safekeep her from prying eyes and probing words; for those, like him, who asked too much. her eyes clipped into his direction, icily regarding him as though he were a gnat. of course it was reactionary, spurned by the intrusion and immediate thought he was just another stranger (
' oh, it's you. '
there was evident jealousy that rose in her stare, having now realized she was in the company of someone at least partially familiar. she knew him of denocte: carrying the same withering, sweetened scent of their home. that, and embarrassment of being discovered, was that within itself enough to tame her tongue. the jealousy, however, laid within his ability. she was still painfully grounded, whereas his were still of precision and ability -- a blade, she would shamelessly steal if there was the capability. having halted, she watched him from beneath the heavy veil of her lashes.
' a pinch of both, i imagine. ' she considered teasing him, offering him but a taste of her wares: let's find out. her tongue pressed itself against the hood of her mouth, ' peaceful times beget wandering souls, it seems, yeah? ' it was unlike her to partake in idle chatter, and so this was more meant to comment on his presence there, as opposed to making conversation. she was unsure of his station within the court, but it (to her) was unseemly that he too took to leaving denocte.
