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03-01-2017, 10:01 PM
althea
"VIENNE LA NUIT SONNE L'HEURE LES JOURS S'EN VONT JE DEMEURE"
ooc : ahahahahha sorry this took fifty years, life hit pretty hard the past few weeks || yael, tilney, open
"VIENNE LA NUIT SONNE L'HEURE LES JOURS S'EN VONT JE DEMEURE"
ooc : ahahahahha sorry this took fifty years, life hit pretty hard the past few weeks || yael, tilney, open
Althea remained tensed, a slight quiver to her bony frame, but she made no move to run; the woman seemed to have any desire to harm her, her movements slow and relaxed and something akin to sympathy – no, definitely sympathy – in her expression. She probably would have appreciated the sentiment, had it not stung, more of a slap to the face to her wounded pride than anything else, at least inside of her own head. With that in mind, she gritted her teeth and attempted to keep her gaze steady, even as the woman dipped her head down to eye-level, almond-brown eyes meeting her own bright turquoise. She’d never had any difficulty meeting the eyes of anyone else before now, and, with her thoughts tangled up in such a disoriented mess, she couldn’t fathom why she was having such difficulties, or why she was so afraid. It was an instinctive fear, animalistic and primal, entirely out of her control. She was used to complete composure and a strong grasp over her own emotions, not this. It left a sour taste in her mouth.
“You are een Xelovia, child. Come now, I’m not going to xurt you…My name ees Yael.” Yael. Helovia? She’d been sent to an entirely new land, by the sound of things, then – no wonder the woman hadn’t reacted to her antlers. The Horned God might not exist in this land. “I vas een your poseetion not too long ago.” Althea fixed her with a searching gaze, unable to disguise a hint of skepticism. Tragedy, of course, was common and inevitable, but, in the midst of it, it was quite difficult to feel understood. Nonetheless, the sentiment was not lost on her, and she had some dim appreciation for Yael’s attempt to establish a connection to her. Thinking about why she was here threatened to bring back memories that she knew that she would rather keep at bay, but Yael spoke before the floodgates opened again, to her relief. (She could swear that she heard movement somewhere in the distance, but she didn’t bother to dwell on it.) “And I xappen to know a very nice lady xoo vould be xappy to look at your vounds, eef you like.”
She considered her response – or, rather, she started to consider, because a voice from the opposite side of the clearing sent her skidding back just a few inches, eye widening with surprise as she spotted its source. “You are in Helovia.” The stallion was golden, though not metallic like Yael, and a white marking that reminded her of a tree ran up one of his front legs; more distractingly, she realized that he too had antlers, and barely managed to smother an instinctive cringe of fear. Another child, like her. (Well, perhaps not. This land did not have a horned god, did it?) Althea was not sure what the twisted feeling in her stomach was; not disgust, certainly, and not the same sort of fear that was the source of her tense stance. She hadn’t thought that the folktales had gotten to her, given her own…condition, and it was a bit disquieting to realize that they had. She tore her eyes from his antlers, barely noticing the lantern hanging from them, and attempted to process his words. Althea didn’t think that he had been standing close enough to hear her stammered questions, so how had he known what she had been wondering? A lucky guess, she told herself, and decided that it was better not to think about it anymore. Not right now.
He said something, then, though she couldn’t quite make it out, and the lantern on his antlers burst into life. Althea had to steel herself so that she didn’t skid backwards again, sucking in a breath; she had to be grateful to that instinctual fear, though, because it kept her from stumbling back into memories of scorched flesh and red and gold swallowing up the night sky. Lanterns were simply for light, she told herself, keeping her cautious gaze fixed on the stallion as he moved closer, eyes skirting down her frame. She recognized that look – she had seen it many times on the court herbalists and doctors, and she’d worn it herself, on occasion. Stiff and uncertain, she looked back and forth between the stallion and Yael, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. After a lengthy pause, she swallowed, and managed a soft, “H…Helovia? I-I…I see.” She still didn’t know if she could trust either of them, but she also knew that she didn’t have much of a choice, so, before she could regret it, she added, “A-and…I…I a-am... Althea.” Her voice was a bit less squeaky now, and the stammering had receded just a bit; Althea told herself that she'd reign it in yet, though she knew that, at least for now, it was probably empty consolation.
Feel free to use magic on/hurt Althea, just don't kill her.
