04-15-2019, 08:39 PM
“Cities might stand for a thousand years, but nature still reclaims her loan in the end. In every end. Though sometimes she needs a little help.” The disappointment was short lived. Little dampened Nimeda for long, and while patience might not be a virtue she would crown herself with, she was nonetheless accustomed to the winding paths of her own nature. New company contented her in the meantime. Eventually something would surface. “Things shift in here because they are ephemera. The cities are like that too.”
She watched the fire and let herself drift, curiously examining his words. The truth he spoke was accepted easily enough, though it seemed strange advice from one of the kin. “If someone could show me the paths I would follow them. Until then, the grimnir can go where I cannot.” Though it was more than that, for she knew he was not bound by the shackles of morality that might fetter another. Nimeda was not oblivious to Mara’s proclivities, nor to the ravening of her pets on those restless innocents who wandered the dream unknowing. Nature was nature, though, and Nim would not see her suffer.
She glanced blankly at the flesh inside her arm, anchored for a moment by a memory that grit her teeth.
Until her attention was pulled by the growl. “Knowing isn’t everything.” She laughed, sure how Jon would tell her otherwise. That one always had questions she could not answer, seeking to quantify things Nim was happy to let slip through her fingers. “I can show you the place she is held in the Other world.” It would actually be far easier to pull them there than to gather the fraying threads of her mind into enough coherence to explain it in words. Asking Mara might be just as simple a solution, but her gaze twisted to find the wolf then. He looked asleep, though it was not as though she could tell. Nim was unsure what he would make of Mara and her pets. Nor Tristan, for that matter.
By now he stood and offered a hand, though his gaze skated high. Enough for understanding to belatedly pierce and amusement to blossom like sunrise, though not unkindly. “Oh, wolf. It's only skin.” But she shifted the blanket higher upon her shoulder anyway, cognizant of his discomfort, and rose nimble enough to her own feet. His earnestness charmed her, or maybe the small current of need ribboning about the words. “I will stay with you.” Her hand peeked from the blanket’s folds to clasp into his like it was the easiest promise in the world, and squeezed. “You have a nice smile, when you find a reason for it. Afterwards I will show you all the places here I love.”
She grinned, and everything shimmered like light reflecting water, and shifted.
Little materialised at first. Habitual white clad Nim once more, the same dress she had set to dry in Tristan’s home, though no evidence of that cold swim remained. She made no effort to blend with their new surroundings, her bare toes scrunching over the cold tile floor. Something electric buzzed and clicked mournfully; above their heads a panel of light flickered and struggled and died. A shiver tickled the back of her neck with wrongness as her gaze roamed the shadows. She had seen the corridors of this hospital a thousand times in her sister’s dreams, and they were clinical and bright.
Her brows narrowed. “This isn't how it should be.”
She watched the fire and let herself drift, curiously examining his words. The truth he spoke was accepted easily enough, though it seemed strange advice from one of the kin. “If someone could show me the paths I would follow them. Until then, the grimnir can go where I cannot.” Though it was more than that, for she knew he was not bound by the shackles of morality that might fetter another. Nimeda was not oblivious to Mara’s proclivities, nor to the ravening of her pets on those restless innocents who wandered the dream unknowing. Nature was nature, though, and Nim would not see her suffer.
She glanced blankly at the flesh inside her arm, anchored for a moment by a memory that grit her teeth.
Until her attention was pulled by the growl. “Knowing isn’t everything.” She laughed, sure how Jon would tell her otherwise. That one always had questions she could not answer, seeking to quantify things Nim was happy to let slip through her fingers. “I can show you the place she is held in the Other world.” It would actually be far easier to pull them there than to gather the fraying threads of her mind into enough coherence to explain it in words. Asking Mara might be just as simple a solution, but her gaze twisted to find the wolf then. He looked asleep, though it was not as though she could tell. Nim was unsure what he would make of Mara and her pets. Nor Tristan, for that matter.
By now he stood and offered a hand, though his gaze skated high. Enough for understanding to belatedly pierce and amusement to blossom like sunrise, though not unkindly. “Oh, wolf. It's only skin.” But she shifted the blanket higher upon her shoulder anyway, cognizant of his discomfort, and rose nimble enough to her own feet. His earnestness charmed her, or maybe the small current of need ribboning about the words. “I will stay with you.” Her hand peeked from the blanket’s folds to clasp into his like it was the easiest promise in the world, and squeezed. “You have a nice smile, when you find a reason for it. Afterwards I will show you all the places here I love.”
She grinned, and everything shimmered like light reflecting water, and shifted.
Little materialised at first. Habitual white clad Nim once more, the same dress she had set to dry in Tristan’s home, though no evidence of that cold swim remained. She made no effort to blend with their new surroundings, her bare toes scrunching over the cold tile floor. Something electric buzzed and clicked mournfully; above their heads a panel of light flickered and struggled and died. A shiver tickled the back of her neck with wrongness as her gaze roamed the shadows. She had seen the corridors of this hospital a thousand times in her sister’s dreams, and they were clinical and bright.
Her brows narrowed. “This isn't how it should be.”