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The waterfalls were freezing over.
Nymeria stood in the upper levels of falls, tucked away on a narrow shelf. She had stumbled across the secluded spot a few days ago, and since then had been using it as a private place, to think about... problems... and... other problems.
But also for art.
Nymeria tipped her head back, admiring the sheathes of ice beginning to form over the thundering falls. The thick rivulets, colored hoary white and translucent pearl, glistened and gleamed with effervescent light. Delicate, far-arcing rainbows splintered away from where the morning sunlight hit the ice. Every so often, she'd reach out with her magic, bending and cooling the water into a frothy, lacy pattern that was decidedly unnatural. Once she stopped tending to it, the pattern would disintegrate; but the artistry gave her something to occupy her mind with.
The sun crept higher. It was making out to be a beautifully mild day—bright sky, no clouds, the gentlest breeze...
It was almost suspiciously peaceful.
Perhaps this was why Kaj and Archibald had warned against complacency. Rainbows shining, waterfall rumbling, sun warm on her back—it would be easy to be lulled into a false sense of security. With a low, rolling sigh, Nymeria turned around, abandoning her artwork in favor of taking the path down towards the meadow.
She needed the Czars' help to scratch an itch.
Well, two itches. There was still the bit with Volterra and her nephews that she needed to address—and perhaps certain aspects of that'd be worth bringing up with Kaj or Archibald—but it were moreso the other bit that she wanted to get off her chest. She figured it was best to go through the proper channels before doing anything—she wanted to avoid the minor fiasco with Ophelia all over again (fuck, how that still bothered her)—and so what better way to do that then get approval?
She exhaled sharply, shifted her weight from foot to foot, and waited for Kaj. Yesterday, she'd asked to meet him at midday; to her surprise, he'd agreed.
I should be more nervous.
@ Kaj
Yes I lied, don't think about you all the time
All my switchblade words ain't aim to cut your sweet delusions
