[There is, truly, something strange about this man. He seems human enough... yet also not? But not in the way that she is not, it is different to her and her kin. Somehow. Part of Morgana wished she'd still been taking her walks with one of the many fair folk who had at first been assigned to babysit her but who she had eventually befriended on her own merits. They almost all had better senses and centuries' worth of knowledge she wasn't sure she could contain within her mind even with all the time in the world to learn it.
He doesn't look like a threat, anyway, but foul things so often looked fair, especially on the edges of things, the in-betweens.
When he speaks again, she listens, carefully as she has been taught. He thinks her one of her kin, that is clear enough. No one speaks to the mortal-born with quite as much caution as they do with a full fae. Not without reason, either, for they love tripping people up with word games and etiquette she can only imagine they thought up one evening millennia ago when they wanted some way to piss each other off with all its complexities and traps.
He really was far from home. The clump of trees she had made her nest in move slightly, as if tilting their head just the way she is as she listens.
A man, seeking closure with a loved one.... who thought she had died and the trail lead them here? Morgana froze.
Grandfather, help her. What was she to do? Was that Arthur over there being a lump on the ground? He couldn't be here, it was dangerous, they could be so vicious with someone who didn't belong there was so much...]
What is his name? [She wants to sound calm, but she doesn't, nor do the trees around her feel calm anymore but instead their branches tossed by a wind unfelt by anything but themselves.] It is important. Tell me his name, Jack's Lantern. [Please, she thinks, but does not say. Pleading shows weakness.]
no subject
He doesn't look like a threat, anyway, but foul things so often looked fair, especially on the edges of things, the in-betweens.
When he speaks again, she listens, carefully as she has been taught. He thinks her one of her kin, that is clear enough. No one speaks to the mortal-born with quite as much caution as they do with a full fae. Not without reason, either, for they love tripping people up with word games and etiquette she can only imagine they thought up one evening millennia ago when they wanted some way to piss each other off with all its complexities and traps.
He really was far from home. The clump of trees she had made her nest in move slightly, as if tilting their head just the way she is as she listens.
A man, seeking closure with a loved one.... who thought she had died and the trail lead them here? Morgana froze.
Grandfather, help her. What was she to do? Was that Arthur over there being a lump on the ground? He couldn't be here, it was dangerous, they could be so vicious with someone who didn't belong there was so much...]
What is his name? [She wants to sound calm, but she doesn't, nor do the trees around her feel calm anymore but instead their branches tossed by a wind unfelt by anything but themselves.] It is important. Tell me his name, Jack's Lantern. [Please, she thinks, but does not say. Pleading shows weakness.]