01-13-2020, 10:00 PM
Winter in Nerine can be unpleasant. The winds are always wild, but now they cut, as well, and the hairless skin of her face is red and chapped. In the worst of the season, cracks appear in the skin and sometimes she bleeds, adding pink to the white hair that remains on her chin and cheeks. Today is one of those days and she rubs her muzzle against her shoulder, leaving a small stain that darkens the silver-brown of her coat ever so slightly. It is as she does this that she catches sight of a familiar figure landing nearby. Lepis. There's really no mistaking Lepis, if you have ever had reason enough to pay attention to her, and certainly the new queen of Nerine has reason to be aware of the former Comtesse of Taiga.
Now a resident of Loess, Neverwhere reminds herself, and wonders at her arrival here. Her ears flicker - forward, backward, forward again - brushing away the irritation that gathers like she might chase away flies. Perhaps blame for the trouble with Loess does not sit wholly at the softly golden mare's doorstep, but she is not innocent of it either, so what is it that she can be here today to speak on? What is to be said between them at all? Thoughts of Lepis mean thoughts of Wolfbane and Lilliana are not far away and that, too, is troubling. She had once used Lepis' name as a weapon against the two as she wedged herself between them, a physical barrier between her friend and the dangerous line she walked. Her loyalty to Lilli had driven her to - rather than stopping her from - hurting her friend that day, something that she later considered with anger and some small regret. They had not spoken on the subject since then, but their friendship survived, so it is without any residual guilt that she makes her brief ascent from her place among worn grey rocks at the mouths of the cliff-caves. Her steps are not hurried, but careful and measured, a holdover from blindness, and her knees lift slightly higher than necessary, stepping over rocks and roots that don't exist. Old habits are hard to break.
"Lepis." One bristling word, spoken only as loudly as needed to be heard above the howling around them, spoken as Lepis pull her wings tight against the furious wind. Does she know that it is Neverwhere who rules here now? It is so unlikely that she will recognize the milk-eyed mare, unlikely that her attention was on anyone but Heartfire in previous visits, but she will perhaps have heard her name on the grapevine. A few have. Her head tilts slightly to one side, the irritated skin around her eyes wrinkling, suspicious, as she studies that other mare for a moment. She leaves space for the wind to speak before addressing her again.
"I'm Neverwhere," her voice is husky with wind and cold and mistrust, "There is a windbreak this way. Come, and then you can tell me why it is you seem to think you're welcome here."
Without waiting for acknowledgement, Neverwhere turns back the way she came, leaving no opportunity for Lepis to interject, to question her. If she does not wish to follow her back to the caves, she can stay there alone on the plain until the wind warps her into the same bent, withered, shape as the stunted trees.
Now a resident of Loess, Neverwhere reminds herself, and wonders at her arrival here. Her ears flicker - forward, backward, forward again - brushing away the irritation that gathers like she might chase away flies. Perhaps blame for the trouble with Loess does not sit wholly at the softly golden mare's doorstep, but she is not innocent of it either, so what is it that she can be here today to speak on? What is to be said between them at all? Thoughts of Lepis mean thoughts of Wolfbane and Lilliana are not far away and that, too, is troubling. She had once used Lepis' name as a weapon against the two as she wedged herself between them, a physical barrier between her friend and the dangerous line she walked. Her loyalty to Lilli had driven her to - rather than stopping her from - hurting her friend that day, something that she later considered with anger and some small regret. They had not spoken on the subject since then, but their friendship survived, so it is without any residual guilt that she makes her brief ascent from her place among worn grey rocks at the mouths of the cliff-caves. Her steps are not hurried, but careful and measured, a holdover from blindness, and her knees lift slightly higher than necessary, stepping over rocks and roots that don't exist. Old habits are hard to break.
"Lepis." One bristling word, spoken only as loudly as needed to be heard above the howling around them, spoken as Lepis pull her wings tight against the furious wind. Does she know that it is Neverwhere who rules here now? It is so unlikely that she will recognize the milk-eyed mare, unlikely that her attention was on anyone but Heartfire in previous visits, but she will perhaps have heard her name on the grapevine. A few have. Her head tilts slightly to one side, the irritated skin around her eyes wrinkling, suspicious, as she studies that other mare for a moment. She leaves space for the wind to speak before addressing her again.
"I'm Neverwhere," her voice is husky with wind and cold and mistrust, "There is a windbreak this way. Come, and then you can tell me why it is you seem to think you're welcome here."
Without waiting for acknowledgement, Neverwhere turns back the way she came, leaving no opportunity for Lepis to interject, to question her. If she does not wish to follow her back to the caves, she can stay there alone on the plain until the wind warps her into the same bent, withered, shape as the stunted trees.
Neverwhere
...
@[Lepis]
