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| http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... prite2.png); background-position:top left; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> | Location: north in Etheral Eclipse, in old DdM land (Demon's Trail) The creatures she speaks to and I reference are all imaginary SSWM: 390 She hummed with a horse voice. The previous night's conversations with the vette had born fruits. She awoke in the morning cold, but rested. They sneered and giggled at her from tree tops and behind roots, and led her to the places she needed to go. The Lady wore a faint smile on her mouth as she traversed the landscape, searching with a determined air. Her precious belongings were trussed to her back, old pieces of worn clothing and half-decayed rope holding them in place. She moved with grace, as if dancing, and the tattered remains of her dress complimented her movements. Haugtussa, one of them whispered, and she shot the vette a sharp smile, proud and beaming, before jumping onwards. Over roots, across paths - she did not follow the usual trails left by humans, prey or wolves. She chose the thickest vegetation, and moved through them without a care. They clutched her dress and almost tore it, but she did not notice. Her gray eyes was deep in a different world - a world where the forest was the same thick forest, but where lithe creatures teemed amongst the frozen roots and leaves and marsh-plants. They led her safely; she knew, because she had offered them the last of her spices the night before. Reaching the clearing again, she entered the more treacherous open spaces, where death could lurk. Somewhere, down there, she was. Mew could be forgiven for her betrayal, but there were conditions. Turning, she faced the thigh-high creature that stood next to her, strange-looking and eerie. Vesle spoke with it in a language she knew, but the words that exited her mouth would not make sense to any other living creature. The string of incomprensible speech was only halted for so and so long, as if a reply was recieved. Satisfied, Vesle continued onwards in a slightly different direction, before halting and repeating the action. The vette gave her directions, Vesle knew this, and saw this. The battered Lady that stood in the snow in a tattered dress and wild hair was a somewhat different picture than what Vesle saw when she looked in the mirror of still or frozen water. A tiny trickle of blood slowly made its way down her fur towards the snow, from a tear in the skin on her shin. | http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... prite3.png); background-position:bottom right; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> |