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[notyetlegend]

[Merida appears to be outside the manor when her locket flips open, brushing out some of the feathers in Angus' wings since he doesn't seem to know quite how to preen them himself just yet. She's wrapped up for the weather, a warm-looking cloak draped over her shoulders and fur trimmed dress, held together at her breast by a hand carved cloak clasp. She tugs the cloak around her a little more, depositing feathers into a bucket before she turns her attention to the locket.]

When I first got here, I was already familiar with th' terms Seelie an' Unseelie, an' Drabbish is close tae th' language of my people. Seelie means 'lucky' or 'blessed', while Unseelie means 'misfortunate' or 'unholy'. [She shakes her head.] I don't believe there's a difference, personally. In all th' stories I was told as a wee lass, Seelie were known tae tell just as many lies as Unseelie. Th' only difference was, Unseelie were more honest, believe it or not, while th' Seelie's words were like roses. Pretty, but not without their thorns.

[tl;dr - all fae were assholes.]

There's many a tale of both of them lurin' men from their path, or kidnappin' children in exchange for their own young, that sort of thing. There was a man who came into DunBroch claimin' he'd been down a sìth for th' last few hundred years. We even have a demon bear who used tae be a prince that roams th' lands.

[She brushes her hands off, then slips them further into the sleeves of her dress as Angus leans his head down towards his water trough, ear flicking as his wings fold back properly into place now that they've been groomed. Merida pats his neck, then tilts her head as she sits down on a bench in his stall, not caring about the hay or snow littering it. There's two saddlebags near her, both appearing to be carrying as much as she needs. Leaning back against a wall of the stable, she fidgets with her cloak clasp as Angus leans over the stall, nuzzling at another horse.]

I suppose what I'm tryin' tae say is, people are more alike than they care to admit, even those who are too prideful tae say so. [She gives a small sigh, lips twisting into a wry smile as her eyes shine with a bit of guilt.] I'm...a lot more like my mother than I'd ever have thought before I arrived. She'd be Seelie if she were here.

[Merida shakes her head, pushing her hair out from her cloak, the material falling down around her shoulders.]

I'd also like tae apologize tae those of you who I suggested come tae th' manor or those I was goin' tae do things with, but I'll be unavailable. I have some travelin' tae do.

[a.k.a she's getting the hell out of dodge. The redhead opens her mouth to say something else but she's interrupted when one of Angus' wings flick over her head, fluffing her hair up over her head and causing her to fumble and drop the locket, cutting the feed on her next cry.]

Angus!

Comments

[notyetlegend]

Aye, I met him briefly, over locket.

[Her expression changes as her brow furrows, lips pursing together. If this wasn't a serious conversation she'd tease him over not telling her he had a brother. Or a sister for that matter. That can come later. Merida manages to smile softly, drawing her cloak inward a little more.]

I may not like my mother sometimes, but I wouldn't hurt her. Not for anyone, High-Queen or otherwise.

[baseborne]

Aye, I would never war against my brother either. [There are a lot of things that Jon's not sure about anymore, but that definitely isn't one of them.] I'm glad there's places like the Station... and the Cothromach. [For now. Since Morla seems intent to burn it down one way or another and nobody will let the poor Station get back on its feet.]

[notyetlegend]

I'm glad he's there with you now, an' that you can be with th' rest of your family.

[Hopefully more neutral places would pop up, but with the anti shardbearer movement, there might be more disturbances in the smaller towns.]

Will th' Cothromach be takin' refugees?

[baseborne]

[His littlest brother has not come and their father has left, but it seems selfish to complain of that when none of Merida's own clan have been seen here, to his knowledge.]

Aye, it will. Historically, it has served that purpose for the Seelie.

[notyetlegend]

[She honestly wouldn't blame him for complaining about it. There must be countless others who miss their relatives, even if some of them were here. Some part of her wondered why the Seelie would be taking refuge since the battle was coming to the Unseelie, but perhaps it was just in case of retaliation.]

Then I wish you an' Lady Sansa th' best of luck an' th' strongest of winds at your backs.

[baseborne]

[Jon knows firsthand how fast one can travel in this strange land. He also knows that Caer Glaem itself has been infiltrated before, attacked. Assuming the tide of this battle cannot (or will not) be turned within the next few weeks is something he can't do, in good faith. He's lived too long in such a place as Westeros for that.]

You have my thanks, Merida. You are always welcome there as well. It is not only a place for the Seelie to escape the war, and as you said, we are not so different after all.

[notyetlegend]

Thank you, Jon. Perhaps if our first destination doesn't work out, we'll head for th' Cothromach.

[She's grateful that he's level headed, if anything else, when he says that last part, and it shows in her smile. Merida had heard whispers about past attacks, when she'd been staying in Caer Scima for a bit, though truthfully a war didn't simply stop because a truce was called once or twice or people got distracted by a third party. She knew that much.]