eswareinmal | (no subject)

"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?"

"I'm only saying -- it's a strange land. Exercise..."

She takes a breath, for perspective. She is in the company of a unicorn, who is eating candy that seems to grow out of the ground.

"Do what you like. It makes no difference to me."

She knocks on the door to the house, and is surprised that she doesn't break through it. There is no answer, but smells from inside the house indicate a burning hearth.

"If they are not here, they shall return soon enough."

Exercise caution. A bit of self-restraint, won't you? Honestly.

Sundrop could hear Moonsong finish the sentence for Sif. Heaving a sigh, the unicorn turns her head away, as if the owner might conveniently show up any moment now.

Her ears twitch, catching something the sounds like scratching from within the house. She takes one step forward, then another, head turning to deciper its source.

"Someone is there. Or something," she says, forehead crinkling in something akin to a frown. "It sounds...hurried."

“Perhaps the owner wants to clean up before opening the door.”

Which could be perfectly benign. Sif sometimes opened the door to her own lodgings tardily, in order to hide messes in her closet. But things in this place were rarely benign – the same could be said for the things Sif hid in her closet.

“You have a good ear. Make use of it now.”

She frowns, and knocks on the door one last time.

“By order of the King, you will open this door or I will break it down.”

The King's title was all the child inside needed. "Help!" he bellows, not so old that puberty had deepened his voice. "Please, help me! I'll be eaten!"

That was all that Sif needed to kick the door open, though she didn't rush in immediately. It wouldn’t be the first time someone mimicked a child’s voice in order to lure travelers into a trap.

“Hold!”

"Help!" he cries again, and there's a rattling noise -- the boy is shaking the door of cage he's locked in, brass in color. It sits in a corner of the kitchen, just a few steps past the entrance way.

Within arms reach of the cage is the edge of a small wooden table. Atop it lies a key, one that spelled freedom if the boy could simply reach it. That is what the scratching noise had been -- vying for the key, clawing wood instead.

"Help, before he returns!"

She walks in, hand at her sword in case it is a particularly elaborate trap. She picks the key off of the table and hands it to the boy.

“How long have you been trapped thus?”

It was a tight fit, but Sundrop manages to fit through the entrance way, though she cannot enter the kitchen all the way. Still, she's in enough to gape at the caged boy, and then to gape at Sif for questioning him without freeing him.

The boy stares at Sif for a moment, then takes the key. "Th-Three days," he says, fumbling to insert it properly from behind the bars.

"Why not help him?" Sundrop asks, agitated.

He looks up at the second voice. Noticing the unicorn, he squeaks and nearly drops the key.

She looks at the horse, exasperated.

“I am. But if someone were to set out a trap for ‘heroes’ this would be the way to go about it.” She turns back to the boy.

Then, softly: “No one is going to hurt you. I have no fear of one that would take a child.”

Fear enough to keep your distance, she thinks with a snort. Ah, but was she not the same? Fearful of giving away Olinda, otherwise why not take her form and let the boy out herself?

The boy scrambles out of the cage as soon as the lock is undone, straight into Sif's personal space. She looked strong and steady, two things that would provide protection.

"He left to find--"

Sundrop's ears perk up. "Someone is coming."

The boy's sentence withers away into another squeak.

Sure enough, there comes from the perimeter an offended cry, then angry stomping. "What in the blazes is a horse doing in my house?!" shrieks the goblin, not yet seeing the Asgardian or the boy.

The sight of them would be delayed. Sundrop kicks on instinct, sending the ugly thing back into the entrance way. She hurries to back up and out, allowing Sif and the boy full view of a very insulted, very mad goblin.

He howls in indignation at the sight of the boy freed. "How dare you touch my dinner!"

Any discomfort that Sif may have felt at the boy’s encroaching presence – she is not good with children, and she never has been – is quickly swept aside as the goblin enters.

Dinner. Even Sif must curl her nose at the prospect. She pushes the boy behind her, and brandishes her sword fully.

“I am certain that children are not a lawful food source in this land. Surrender now and face trial or I shall split your belly open where you stand. On the off chance that last night's dinner is undigested.”

The goblin gives her a healthy, and quite derisive, snort. "Trial? By who, lady knight? The kingdom is but a rumbling of bumbling fools!"

With that out of the way, he points a knobbly claw at Sif. "And they do not teach their subjects manners, either! Get out of here, servant of an idiot!"

The sword goes to his throat.

“I am the servant of Odin Allfather, ruler of Asgard, whose boots you are not fit to lick.”

She would kill him, here and now, and not regret it at all. Only – the families. They may want word of their children’s fate.

“How many children have you held in this manner? How many have you killed?”