The subtle clink of metal on metal draws the witch's gaze to the horned girl's trinket. She was too far away to make out much detail, but it was definitely some sort of chain. Interesting. Her horns are useful for holding things. The striped lady soon speaks again, and the little witch abandons her thoughts regarding the necklace to focus on their conversation. She talks a lot. This is good.Not known to talk much herself, Yana prefers to shun social interaction rather than seek it out. Information is easier to give away than it is to attain, however, and the starry mare has nothing to tell at the present; listening to the talkative girl will prove to be more of a blessing than anything else.
An unknown voice startles the hag into a bout of coughing. Speaking of surprises... Who is this? His tone is rich and welcoming, but his words... Something about them raises her suspicions. If not for your gain, then for whose?
When she is finally able to breathe again, she returns the stranger's greeting. "Yana." In case you missed that part whilst you were eavesdropping. The witch keeps her identity simple: she knows little of the courts that inhabit these lands, and does not wish to align herself with one just yet. "No apologies are necessary. We have gathered together here for a reason, surely. The three of us seek a relic, be it for Tempus, some other God, or otherwise."
Her gaze slips from the amiable expression in his eyes to the star between them, but only for a second: soon it is travelling down the slope of his nose to the smile perched on his lips. What is it you find amusing, warrior? Do you know something we do not? The fiery man is as much a stranger to her as Weir, and yet he seems to know the most about the land and the realms residing within them. It seems as if she must try to learn more about the surrounding country as well as the relic, especially if the starry mare is keen on keeping her swamp.
"I've heard little of this relic. A... companion was seeking it." She is unsure of what to refer to Damascus as. Is he her friend? Will she meet him again? White hairs go flying when the hag shakes her head with a cough. "But I've heard even less of the realms. Your Night Court- are we trespassing on their lands?"
@Weir
An unknown voice startles the hag into a bout of coughing. Speaking of surprises... Who is this? His tone is rich and welcoming, but his words... Something about them raises her suspicions. If not for your gain, then for whose?
When she is finally able to breathe again, she returns the stranger's greeting. "Yana." In case you missed that part whilst you were eavesdropping. The witch keeps her identity simple: she knows little of the courts that inhabit these lands, and does not wish to align herself with one just yet. "No apologies are necessary. We have gathered together here for a reason, surely. The three of us seek a relic, be it for Tempus, some other God, or otherwise."
Her gaze slips from the amiable expression in his eyes to the star between them, but only for a second: soon it is travelling down the slope of his nose to the smile perched on his lips. What is it you find amusing, warrior? Do you know something we do not? The fiery man is as much a stranger to her as Weir, and yet he seems to know the most about the land and the realms residing within them. It seems as if she must try to learn more about the surrounding country as well as the relic, especially if the starry mare is keen on keeping her swamp.
"I've heard little of this relic. A... companion was seeking it." She is unsure of what to refer to Damascus as. Is he her friend? Will she meet him again? White hairs go flying when the hag shakes her head with a cough. "But I've heard even less of the realms. Your Night Court- are we trespassing on their lands?"
@Weir
