Action Log: Morning of the 19th.

[brosif]

Characters: The horse formally known as Sif
Open? Yes!
Where: Schwanheim or the woods, depending on the time.
When: Morning of the 19th.
What: The magic peddler gave Sif a very special hat. Too special.
Warnings: Sif is an angry horse, yo.

In the village of Schwanheim, there is a horse in place of a prince. Her color is lovely – a deep, rich brown. Her temperament is not. She runs through the city, vision blurred, knocking over whatever lies in her way in an attempt to leave the village walls. There is a bandage around her front left Fetlock, but it covers no wound.

Being in the city enrages her. Sights and sounds are filtering into her mind in a way she is wholly unused to. She thinks of the face of a peddling man and is enraged further. She will find him.

Comments

[brosif]

"Yes." Right -- the nervous ghost man. "I apologize. The last few hours are a bit..."

Well.

"I was a horse."

[consultmybooks]

All the more nervous now, although no more or less ghostly.

"I, um, I noticed. I think it must have had something to do with..." And here he casts about again, searching for the hat, before spotting it laying innocently a few yards away. "That. Um, the hat. When you managed to shake it off, whatever was keeping you in that shape s-seemed to dissipate." A moment of thought, and then he asks with real curiosity: "Are cursed items a common occurrence in this place? Suppose it would, um, fit the theme, at the least."

[brosif]

She could kick herself, were her stomach not already doing the deed for her.

“Too common. That hat was given to me by a peddler. I’d intended the mages to examine the hideous thing, but it found its way onto my head before I had a chance."

She takes a deep breath – changing bodies is not kind on one’s disposition, and the past few hours have quite literally been her idea of hell. But this specter is a stranger and she has no intention of baring herself further before him.

...aside from the baring she is currently doing.

“I have taken you far from the castle grounds. For that I apologize, Gilesson.”

[consultmybooks]

"Yes, um, well. I'm...not entirely certain how that happened, actually, so your apology is accepted, miss."

The most distressing part of the encounter had been being charged through and kicked in some cases quite literally apart, and reforming was proving to be utterly nauseating. But that hadn't been within Sif's control either, and so he doesn't hold it against her.

"Besides, I'd h-have come out this far eventually, in any case. A-And, um, 'Giles' is fine, by the way. I'm...not sure I caught your name, during our last conversation."

[brosif]

“I am the Lady Sif of Asgard.”

He was no townsperson – she preferred her real name.

“I would offer a hand, but I suspect that my limbs have already run through you enough, this day."

[consultmybooks]

Although his back is still resolutely to her, Sif can probably garner Giles' reaction to, and recognition of, her name by the fact that he goes so very still when she introduces himself, and he simply stops breathing for a second or so.

Finally:

"Oh."

Her attempt at humor, therefore, is well received, even when Giles has so very little in the way of sense of humor to speak of. He laughs wryly, folding his arms tightly across his chest in a gesture of reassurance to himself that he's still there.

"Yes, um, well. Apart from being a bit turned around, I'm quite all right. A benefit of being in this state, at the least. Nothing to worry about."

[brosif]

Ah. It’s been quite awhile since her name garnered that particular reaction. That he hasn’t fallen on his knees and asked her to bless his crops earns Giles a marked difference in Sif’s regards.

“About that – it may be some time until we reach a homestead. I would rather not talk to your back the entire time.” Then, remembering their myths:

“I promise, no thunder shall come and strike you down.”

[consultmybooks]

A promise that Giles is far more relieved to hear than he probably should be. He laughs wryly, takes off his classes to stick in his coat pocket, and then turns around again. "That's, um, that's very good to know." Then, because it's been that kind of day: "...is, is Thor actually here, then?"

[brosif]

Poor at disguising her emotions, Sif's expression goes somber.

"I have not spoken to my friend in some days."

That is all she will say to a stranger, even one as seemingly amiable as Giles.

[consultmybooks]

...well, it's a yes. Or so Giles gathers. But, then again, she might be new, like him. It's been a busy day already, and the sun hasn't yet reached its height.

"Well, um..." Here he looks down at his feet, more in the face of her somber expression than anything else. "Um, perhaps now that you're, um, back to your own shape, perhaps the two of you can catch up." Then, rather hastily, because that is not an expression that promises further conversation: "Sh-Shall we?"