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It is easy to find her, dark against the stark white that has, for as long as you care to remember, symbolized home. At first there is nothing, nothing but a girl seemingly too out of place to ever belong. You wonder, idly, if you had looked so lost when Arah had taken you North, when Deimos had found you and asked who you were, what you were able to offer. You do not remember if it had been then, or if it had taken time for the valley, the cold and the snow to grow on you, so different from the sand, the ocean that you had known.
At first, she is just a girl, a curious girl that had managed to find her way through the snow-covered path. As you meander closer, however, you finally notice the lean, dark blue figure of your prince, and your heart leaps, a smile creeping along the thin lines of your lips. You forget the stranger for a moment, easy movements bringing you closer to him, your muzzle brushing past the sweep of his hip, the ghost of a touch that you have become all too accustomed to, before your eyes lift to look at the girl, the flickers of a bright orange across her skin that you had not seen before registering absently within your mind.
It is not her small figure that you notice, the feminine sweep of her face; it is a glimmer of something in her eyes, passive lines written on her face as she looks at him, examines him with too keen an eye that instantly puts you on the defensive, kindles the embers of defiance within the shadow of your heart.
Before you can place it, it is lost to you, your eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Had it just been your imagination?
Your smile quickly turns cold, grows shallow, as you move to your little lion’s side, pressing a little too close, your posture a little too stiff to be anything but borderline possessive; your eyes do not leave her as she moves forwards, her apparent try at charm or humor nearly causing them to roll. “I wouldn’t get too close,” you begin, lifting your head to point in the direction of one of the sentinels, grown quiet over the months of their neglect.
Deimos had mentioned that the man that had made them left, and had taken their magic with him, rendering them immobile, nothing but a symbol of what had been, but you quickly decide it is not something she needs to know. “They are the Sentinels, and are tasked with the protection the Basin. They will defend it against anyone who does not belong, or is otherwise unwelcome.” Subtlety has never been one of your strong points. And why should it be, anyways? You are not the too-bold stranger standing within your mountain’s shadow. “So, let me ask:” A grin, unhindered by the dares and threats that linger in your mind, at the back of your tongue.
“Just what are you doing here?”
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like punching in a dream, breathing life into a nightmare
