first arrow ➴ video (seelie + unseelie)

[torc]

( In the days since Guinevere's arrival she has employed a careful tread - listening to the locket and learning its magic. It's in her nature to be swift and silent - the survival of the woads is in their stealth - and as little time as possible has been spent trapped between four walls. Her gown is gone, replaced with brown leathers and a sleeveless tunic featuring a cowl neck, and knotted belts criss-cross her hips to hold the sheaths for her long knives.

A little blue dye to pattern her skin and she'd be feeling much more like herself. )

The land is different here.

( She appears to be seated, her bow propped close, and is holding the locket between both hands. From the view of what's behind her it's clear that she isn't in Caer Glaem: dappled shadows slip across her face and a breeze twists itself through a canopy of leaves. Pausing, Guinevere glances off to the side for a moment like a fox with its ears pricked. She's still listening. The worms were nightmarish - she had never seen their like before - but she knows how to choose her battles as she knows when to disappear.

Presently, she speaks again. )

Do you feel it? Perhaps it is the magic of the so-called faerie folk, but it rests heavy between these trees. The weight of it is almost a comfort.

( Her eyes, although wry and amused, retain that depth of level and calm. Thus far she's ventured into the Great Greenwood surrounding Caer Glaem in an attempt to better understand the land, never wandering so far as to lose herself but rarely passing the same mark twice. Nature speaks to her and here its voice is warm and kind.

Guinevere's, on the other hand, is playful at scorn.)

I cannot imagine why any woman or man would prefer cold stone to a green shelter.

( Bloody hippies. Guinevere lifts an eyebrow, then tilts her head as though unsure of whether or not she wishes to continue.)

And Arthur - or perhaps Lancelot - if you have arrived in these strange lands ...

( A hand reaches to touch her bow as she lowers her lashes, smirking privately.)

Meet with me. Someone has to protect you from the brutes on the battlefield, after all.

Comments

voice;

[skennen]

I would not call it a comfort, but I have felt what you speak of.

[He can't help but be a little wary of all this magic business, fascinating though it sometimes is.]

As for some people's preference for stone... Many have known nothing else. It is difficult to appreciate something you have no experience with.

[There is the briefest of pauses, then a touch of humor creeps into his voice.]

Others would avoid the grass for fear of stepping in mud.

[An endless source of (strictly secret) entertainment: people desperately trying to keep their fineries from getting the least bit dirty.]

Oh... and hello.

voice;

[torc]

What a cruelty it is, to know nothing save the cold embrace of stone ...

( But there's amusement in her tone as well. )

Nor to have danced under the rain with grass and earth between your toes.

( And that might be a secret amusement to Connor, but Guinevere is all too open about how much she enjoys watching rich folk struggle with their silks. )

I do not know your voice. Who are you?

voice;

[skennen]

They do not think it a cruelty. I have known men who would say it is... a matter of the civilized mind. As though all peoples should aspire to surround themselves with tall buildings and paved streets, that they may be more sophisticated and proper.

[His words have a hint of a sardonic bite to them there, but no sooner than he's said that, he's wondering if he's been unfair.]

I can appreciate the hard work that goes into all that cold stone, though. It is remarkable what a community can build together and the cities I have visited have been full of life and energy and new ideas, besides. I cannot imagine ever living where there is only stone, but there is much to learn in those places, from the people who would call nothing else home.

[There, better. His voice softens further with fondness as he adds-]

But, yes, I agree it is a shame they will never dance on grass and earth.

My name is Connor. Who are you?