eswareinmal | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Characters: Olinda and you!
Open? Yep!
Where: The Two-Faced Forest
When: The 18th of Rebirth's Height, day
What: Olinda be unicorning it up.
Warnings: None.

[ Far from the calamities of spinning wheels and sleeping prince(sses), there's a unicorn foraging in the Two-Faced Forest. The bag Kori had gifted her hangs loosely around her neck.

Bother her, y/n? ]

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Now this, this is someone who kills. Of what, Sundrop couldn't know, but she's wary and it shows in the way her eyes and ears are focused on the Asgardian warrior.

"And now that you do?" she asks, the language a richer, thicker tone in her throat.

“I wonder about your horn,” she says, honestly. “The same way that I might wonder about the feathers and teeth and claws of other impossible creatures.”

Of course, the horn. The primary reason unicorns were hunted in her world. It's unfair to judge everyone else by those standards, but it's difficult to refrain.

"Are there any stories about it in your home?"

... Maybe. Maybe alicorns aren't as valuable here, or desired. It's a sudden and bizarre concept to her, though it would explain why unicorns were seen as nuisances rather than marks in Schwanheim.

“I’ve heard that ground up, it can cure a variety of ailments.” Her own hand is splintered, healing from a fracture. She shrugs.

“Then again, I’ve heard my own bones will do the same. And that I make wheat grow and keep watch over the hearth. All stories by people who do not live long.”

She tilts her head a fraction, as if trying to reconcile the armored woman in front of her with one who managed the home.

"You do not seem the type."

"And you do not seem to speak only with virgins," Sif said, moving in a bit closer. Curiosity overrode caution. "Unless I have gone a thousand years back in time without realizing it."

Sundrop stood her ground, though her head did toss with uneasiness. If Sif drew any closer, she would circle to reinstate the distance between them.

"You have not." There was no invisible tug from her.

“I will not hunt you.” Her hands remain at her sides. “It seems bad luck, in this place.”

There was a small pause of hesitation before she answered, "Nevertheless. I would be a fool to trust your claim without proof."

A small pause. "It is not personal," she added, as if that might lessen the insult on the Asgardian's honor.

And indeed, it wasn't. Sundrop was used to taking all but the boldest of lies as truth, and she held no fondness for viewing others with suspicion, but she couldn't, absolutely wouldn't soil Fleetfoot's sacrifice any more than she already had.

Sif’s honor was not besmirched so easily as her friends' – practicality did not offend her. She gave a slight nod.

“Very well. But my path does lie this way, and you are blocking it.”

[ooc: I think that Sif and Olinda could be a pretty interesting team up! Would you be interested in asking Fran if they can encounter some kind of ~mystery~ in the forest?]

Sundrop hesitated, then stepped off to the side.

"Where are you going?" she asked, unable to hold back her curiosity.

[ ooc: sure! she will be the scooby to her shaggy ]

"I am...seeking a friend."

That Loki is concerned for his brother is telling enough.

"I will go where the woods may take me."

[OOC: Yeeeeah, let's stop some baby eating!]

"Even these woods?" she asked, despite, well, foraging in them herself. It was still light out, after all.

"The sun will set late tonight, and I am not so scared of the darkness."

Though the bandages around her wrist indicate that she should at least be more aware of it. She tilts her head, curious.

"Do you wish to accompany me? Admitted hunter as I am."

She cocks her head in response, mirroring Sif's curiosity.

After a short pause, she says, "Yes, I do. There is safety in numbers, even if I do not trust you." Whatever threat that may have lurked in the forest wouldn't know that, though -- only that there were two together instead of one.

It is a fair enough train of logic. Sif rests her gaze upon the creature’s horn.

“I do not trust you, either. Should an idea overtake you in the woods, I will caution you against assuming me defenseless.”

She snorts, though after the initial offense, Sundrop understands that Sif's distrust is just as legitimate as her own. Her ears flatten in self-reproach before perking up again.

"Your words have been taken to heart." She steps forward. "I will follow your lead."

Out of respect for their mutual wariness of each other, the unicorn does not trail directly behind Sif, but to the side, so that she might be easily caught in her peripheral vision.

The two wary companions walk in silence, for a time. Sif is not so lax as it be lulled into a sense of security in the presence of one she does not know. But it is pleasant enough – the woods are quiet, the weather is fair. And the air smells of…

“…is it you that smells like spiced cake, unicorn?”

She had begun to smell it, too, that aroma of sweetness. Assumed they were approaching a nearby cottage.

"Pleasant though it may be, no," she says, finding the question strange. "Is that usual for the unicorns of your world?"

A short survey of the area would show a small clearing, easy to miss visually, difficult to by smell. Curiosity (and the promise of sweets) overriding caution, she begins to move towards the source.

"My world has none like you."

She moves alongside her four-legged companion. Could there be a bakery, this far from anywhere?

If she had hands, she would be scratching her chin in thought. A world without unicorns? Now that was even stranger.

Sundrop feels the house before she reaches it -- under hoof, the large, flat stones that make up the walkway are not actually stones, but large chocolate chip cookies.

"My," she breathes in shock, the words whisked out of her throat. A house of treats. Never in her entire life had she seen such a phenomenon. "Who in the world lives here?"

"Someone with no interest in keeping a house that will hold up under a storm."

Sif runs her fingers along the flowers in the garden. They too are fake. The daffodils are crystalline and sugar spun. The lilacs seem to be made of a very thin form of licorice.

"It may be hours before we come across the next homestead. My name should bring us hospitality, though the water here may be as strange as the garden."

"Your name?" she prompts, attention drawn to the sugary flowers. It would be rude to nibble on them, of course, but what could one expect when their home was made of confectionery?

And there were so many other flowers. Surely a petal or two would not be missed.

Well! That settled that.

Flower tasting commence!

"My name. Prince -- are you mad," she hisses, moments short of ringing the bell.

"We are in a land full of curses and tricks, and yet you eat spun sugar growing out of the ground? Shall I find you a toad to kiss, next?"

Sundrop lifts her head, still chewing, completely undisturbed by Sif's chiding. Then she cocks her head. "Kissing toads? What has that got to do with anything?"

yep!

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