Have a seat in the foyer, take a number
i was lightning before the thunder
It was summer, the sun beating down on the whole of Novus and the Dusk Court with its full body; it held no reserves about those that wandered beneath its harsh light, caring for little else save its spot unchallenged in the sky. There might have been water-logged clouds gathering high and near to threaten the sun's current reign, but Rann wasn't focused enough to tell if there was sign of a storm. It mattered little to her, the one from snow and ice, for though the rain was less than impressive she had no attention left to give to the idea.
Someone, they said, had washed upon shore by the cliffs.
She had been in the midst of a quiet conversation beneath open bay windows with Máni, high in the Dusk Court tower. They laid with one another, soft tones filling their atmosphere as gentle breezes played with their manes. Rann was softly tracing the paint marks across his skin while he told her stories of his long journey; to be back, to be touchable and hear his voice, there was little else she had craved so much. The interruption came when one of the court galloped into the tower's yard and yelled for them, for any near enough to hear. They said, with missing breath and a heart too strong to stand, someone not of their kingdom had been found unconscious along the cliff's beach shore where the ocean sloped onto land. Rann pushed herself away from the comfort of Máni's side to make way down the spiraling stairs and out through the entrance; whether he followed or not, she wasn't paying any mind to.
She pulled up short from her race across the cliffs as Damascus worked on separating the stranger from the tides. She glanced for any standing close enough to her (sights set for Florentine's soft body) and called for Yana; the girl of the swamp had gathered enough by now, surely, to have something in her stronghold to help.
"Thank you, Damascus." The words came as she slipped her wolf's coat off her back and placed it over the drenched form in the sand, her slight telekinesis powers using it to rub off the remaining water. The boy was not moving, but he breathed slow breaths and she could only wait until her Champion of Healing arrived with something to stimulate waking him.
Someone, they said, had washed upon shore by the cliffs.
She had been in the midst of a quiet conversation beneath open bay windows with Máni, high in the Dusk Court tower. They laid with one another, soft tones filling their atmosphere as gentle breezes played with their manes. Rann was softly tracing the paint marks across his skin while he told her stories of his long journey; to be back, to be touchable and hear his voice, there was little else she had craved so much. The interruption came when one of the court galloped into the tower's yard and yelled for them, for any near enough to hear. They said, with missing breath and a heart too strong to stand, someone not of their kingdom had been found unconscious along the cliff's beach shore where the ocean sloped onto land. Rann pushed herself away from the comfort of Máni's side to make way down the spiraling stairs and out through the entrance; whether he followed or not, she wasn't paying any mind to.
She pulled up short from her race across the cliffs as Damascus worked on separating the stranger from the tides. She glanced for any standing close enough to her (sights set for Florentine's soft body) and called for Yana; the girl of the swamp had gathered enough by now, surely, to have something in her stronghold to help.
"Thank you, Damascus." The words came as she slipped her wolf's coat off her back and placed it over the drenched form in the sand, her slight telekinesis powers using it to rub off the remaining water. The boy was not moving, but he breathed slow breaths and she could only wait until her Champion of Healing arrived with something to stimulate waking him.
@Máni // bc mentioned!
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