The sound was like a strike of lightning. First it landed dead center in her heart, and like any electric shock, traveled insanely fast through her whole body. For only a moment the surprise showed, her body shook and her eyes were hesitant, uncertain. Farore was the only creature around to see such a rare occurrence, the stoic fairy child losing her wits, and for the briefest of moments ruby eyes met amethyst and words unspoken passed between them. Before her sister could vocalize what they both were thinking, Nayru rose up, elegant and quick, and exited the silent church they both haunted regularly now. Over her shoulder the two toned woman shot her sister a look that clearly indicated her wish to answer the call alone and Farore slumped further into the pew she rested in, her lips pressed tightly together.
The was no urgency in her pace, but it was efficient and her strides were long, or as long as her short stature allowed for. As she moved she tried to mentally recreate the howl that had so startled her, one ghost calling out for another. Although she had not known where either had gone to, she counted them among the dead, uncertain if she would ever lay eyes on either again. Nayru, the once phantom of Dahlia de Mai, more of a ghost than either of them had ever been during their residence, arrived in her usual silent manner. Before she voluntarily showed herself she took in the sight of him, almost a different creature completely from the man she remembered. And then she stepped forward, head held high and ever thinking of the dagger that was strapped to her ankle, held there by an anklet made with jewels the same color as her eyes.
He's gone. If her voice ever rose above more than a whisper there might have been an edge to it, but the quiet sound was neutral. As was her stance, her eyes, her everything. There was no sign of her high standing in Dahlia de Mai and neither did she bow her head as she would have only a month or so ago. Simply she stood there, ruby gaze upon his plated form, willfully ignoring the scar, the armor, the horse. She stared through him as if he truly were the ghost she had made him into.
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