orb ; rebirth 19

[sorcerous]

[ The orb rises and follows as Loki leaps from one tree to another, lighting on a strong branch and bracing himself with a palm against the bark.

There's quite a din of whinnying and hoofbeats in the background.

His voice is utterly calm: ]

Gretel -- sorceress. It seems my day is somewhat preoccupied. I won't be able to meet with you after all.

[ A smash of splintering wood; Loki flinches. More of a twitch, really.

He raises his eyes heavenward, in exasperation, and reaches out for the orb.

It avoids his fingers. ]

Oh, in the name of --

[ Visible, now, is a horse just a few feet below him, a brown one, enraged. Possibly familiar to some as the horse that rampaged through town earlier. And she has a little, ridiculous hat braced between her ears. ]



ooc; responses may be from Loki, and they may be from rampaging horse!Sif. Or both.

Comments

[ladysarmour]

But what could have upset her so? [ The direwolves often set other animals into such a state, but Lady is in the castle, with Sansa, not out in the wood. ]

[sorcerous]

I cannot fathom.

[ladysarmour]

But you are trapped in that tree. If she cannot be calmed, how are you to get down? Aren't you frightened?

[sorcerous]

No. Because I believe that she will not hurt me, truly, and that her judgment will override both her instincts and her anger.

[ He says it clearly enough for Sif to hear. ]

That is, should she prove equal to the task I have set for her.

[ladysarmour]

You did this? [ LOKI SHE THOUGHT YOU WERE A GOOD WIZARD ]

[sorcerous]

As though I would craft anything so ridiculous as that hat.

[ If he magicked her into a horse, it would be with something pretty, tyvm. ]

[brosif]

[Except he did do this and Sif shakes the tree once again in testament to that fact. Don't believe the lies, Sansa!

Yeah, she heard you. Here's a task for you, Loki. Take this hat off.]

[ladysarmour]

Oh. Oh! It's the hat!

[brosif]

[OH GEE I WONDER. Have another knock at the tree, Loki. A very hard one.

Sansa, Loki is the worst and you can't hang out with both of them anymore. Pick a lunch table.]

[ladysarmour]

[ Sansa jolts visibly at the shuddering image in the orb and the sound of wood snapping. She's never much liked horses and this one frightens her, but she finds herself speaking to it in a soft voice. ]

There, there... It's - it's alright, sweet one, there's no reason to carry on so.

[brosif]

[Well -- complete and utter disbelief is one way to stop Sif (quite literally) in her tracks.

She stares at Sansa, through the orb.

Sweet one?]

[ladysarmour]

[ she doesn't know it's you sif she thinks she's actually talking to a horse ]

There - you're alright, see? The wizard will not hurt you. [ she hopes. ]

[sorcerous]

That's it: the wizard won't hurt you.

[ladysarmour]

[ a hopeful smile? ]

She seems to be calming down.

[brosif]

[Her gaze turns to Loki, unusually sharp for a horse.

Stop acting for the girl, liar.]

[sorcerous]

Look? You're breaking your instincts already.

[ He crouches, on the branch. Closer to her. ]

I don't believe you'd truly hurt me.

[brosif]

[A snort -- he can believe what he likes, but he's the one who put the curse back on her.

She seems to think it over for a moment, and half turns towards an exit in the clearing. If she can leave the woods while she still has her mind...]

[sorcerous]

This is the only way to learn to control your instincts, Sif. The only way. Would you rather eternal fear? Would you rather dread this curse for all of your days? You said it yourself: I had a knife. The next will not be so kind.

[consultmybooks]

[...it hadn't been terribly hard to get news about a rampaging horse. What had been the hard part was narrowing down which rampaging horse. Now it was going about the town that there were five of the damn things.

But Giles had given a description as best as he could and been directed into the woods. From there? Well, from there it had gotten much easier, broken branches and kicked up dirt and hoof marks. And then, after a while, a voice he recognizes.

Giles takes care to fade out of view before he approaches closer enough to the scene that Loki and Sif actually come into his line of sight.]

[brosif]

She can picture it, too. A hunter that draws her in with sweet words and kind hands. An iron knife, plunged into her throat while the fool horse is too distracted by oats to offer any resistance. The Lady Sif, killed by an old man's curse in a distant land.

She stops.

When Giles comes upon the scene, he will find Sif more receptive than in the orb. Loki has made his point well enough, though it does little to ease her anger.

[sorcerous]

He drops down next to her, with cautious, slow movements.

"I would not have done this at all," he tells her, "except that I don't want you to be afraid. The Lady Sif is not one as should be cowed." He strokes down her neck, presses his palm on the muscle at her shoulder.

Under ordinary circumstances, he would have noticed the ghost. He is one keenly aware of his surroundings, and attuned to magic. But, now that he has retrieved the orb, his focus is entirely on her. There is a strange vulnerability in that: he does not try to hide it, now.

[consultmybooks]

No, the Lady Sif isn't one who should be afraid, especially not afraid of a cursed derby hat.

Giles recalls that, ironically, in this form she's actually more than a bit afraid of him. At least, if her behavior the last time they met was any indication. He eases around Loki to get a better look at Sif. It really is eery, to him, just how much she's settled down. It seems much too much like settling in.

Of course, it's also a fascinating conversation that he's just walked in on, and Giles wonders just what else he might have missed and just how much that might come back to bite him in a few minutes.

Even so, he's going to attempt to get nearer to Sif without attracting Loki's attention. The second she seems aware of him? Giles will attempt to spook her again, rather like last time.

[brosif]

She cranes her neck over and hits Loki somewhat lightly with her nose. The same way she might push him in the shoulder, in lieu of accepting a non-apology.

The tranquility of the moment, if it can be called that, is thrown directly off balance once Giles gets close enough for Sif to register his presence. In her human mind, he's registered as something akin to an ally. The horse does not share her feelings on dead things and reels back with a cry.

Eye wide, now, and far less in control. The mare wants nothing more than to run.

[sorcerous]

[ l m f a o ]

[brosif]

[YOU WOULD.]