poly_chromatic | Quest 296

[Voice Post]

I, er...yes, hello again, everyone, it's so very nice to see you again! My, it's that time of the year again, isn't it? This must be our visit for the winter season, since the last one we had was, er, in the fall. It's, um, been quite some time since then, hasn't it?

...Yes, well, um. Yes. Er...

...Oh, honestly, this is ridiculous, I've never had such trouble with the visitors before--er, mostly, anyway, since there was that one time when--well, but that's beside the point. Um. It's just that there's someone here and I think he's been following me and I can't for the life of me puzzle out why, since every time I turn around he just up and disappears again! Honestly, I've never seen anything like it; normally the people who come to call are so eager to say hello. They don't usually sneak around in the shadows and turn up in nothing but glimpses wherever I go.

But, er, in any case, I am eager to say hello to people, and so please do stop by if you have a moment, since I'd like very much to visit with you if you have the time. And, er, I suppose if the person following me--or even if you aren't following me, but simply happening to turn up wherever I go on coincidence--can see this, too, then please do come out and say hello, yourself? I can't imagine why you wouldn't...

I'll be looking forward to it, very much so!

[OOC: As per usual, she's canonically from just after the end of Perils of Rosella, and with some very disjointed and vague knowledge of Absence Makes the Heart Go Yonder. ~~Not that that really means anything to anyone, but.~~ If something comes up that I don't want her to know, I'll just have her forget it, so have a party--anything goes! HIT HER WITH EVERYTHING YOU'VE GOT. Troll, threadjack, have a ball!

And of course, I am totally okay with backdating. ♥]

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I follow you always, Princess. Not just today. [ He exhales fog. ] I nip at your dainty heels.

[She won't be scared she won't be scared she won't be sc--]

Too much of that and all you'll have is a kick to show for it.

[ You will be scared, Rosella. It's the least you can do for escaping his jaws with such frequency. ]

Some would kill their own kin to be loved as much as that.

[It's working, too; even as she tries to put up a strong front, she's starting to cringe, just barely.]

Don't you dare! That's nothing like love!

[ He sneers again, his eyes burning bright. You are so very lovely when you run, Rosella. ]

There's no creature that knows love better than a loyal dog.

[If he keeps this up much longer, he may get his chase in person. The vague apprehension she's been feeling the whole day is magnifying exponentially now.]

A loyal dog would know better than to snap.

[ That sneer spreads now, turns into a more obvious smile. White teeth set into a handsome man's face. Far too many, they gleam. ]

Would you rather I embrace you with these arms, instead? And save my bloody jowls for one less loved than you, Rosella? I've many to collect today, but I would trade them all to know you well.

No!

[The reaction, instantaneous. Far too quickly.]

You stay away from me!

[ His brow lowers. Territorial. ]

You're frightened.

[ Which is perhaps the point, but it's not fully his doing. He can tell. ]

I should certainly think I ought to be, after talk like that!

But I'm with you always. You know that. We're old friends, you and I.

No!

[And it's something about that--maybe it's that she knows it's the truth, maybe it's the tone of his voice or the smolder in his eyes or simply the tension finally succeeding at causing the edges of her resilience to fray--that makes her jump, at last, and she's off and running, somewhere, anywhere, instincts manifesting physically in an attempt to quell the emotional.]

[ It's a welcome game, though there's no denying the fact that the Black Dog has known more than his fair share of disappointment in Rosella's perpetual escape. If he follows her, it's not obvious, though there is something else upon her heels. Not a black shadow, but white. ]

[ A white dog follows. ]

Why do you run, two-legs? The Black Dog wishes only to bless you.

[It's pure good fortune that keeps her from losing her footing, trying to turn to see just what it is that's pursuing her--a bad habit, and she really ought to know better--but it's also an action that promises danger if she's foolish enough to repeat it; her skirts tangle and twist, and she nearly stumbles.

Why is she running, she wonders? Because running has carried her far from death so many times before, and she doesn't know what else to do.]

Is that what you call a blessing?

[ It is not Death that chases you now, Rosella, but the hunter, Death's little sister. Known as the White, the proudest of the Dogs, she is the herald of the hunt and she will catch you. She has no other function. ]

All things die. Two legs, four, a hundred. It makes no difference. Time is time, and my brother says you have had yours. Many times over.

Well, he's wrong!

[Childish, perhaps, to retort like that. But what else can she do?]

[ For now? Run. ]

Blessed Brother is never wrong. Hold your tongue, two-legs, or I will tear it from you when you fall.

Edited 2012-01-29 01:46 (UTC)

[Oh, she's running. She's running like her life depends on it--and it has, so many times before.]

There's a first time for everything!

[ The white whisper disappears from upon her heels. When next Rosella turns to glance back, it will be gone.

And instead, a woman with white blonde hair will stand across her path ahead, glaring at her with ice blue eyes. ]

Death is death.

[She skids to a halt, skirt twisting in her legs, and barely remembers to catch herself as she falls to the ground, face white as snow and eyes wide with fear.]

[ The woman tilts her head up towards the sky and gives an unnatural shrieking cry, not unlike a howl. In the back of her mind, Rosella hears the call for what it is: ]

The Princess is caught, Sacred Brother.

[She can't find the breath to speak, but she does mouth words--no, don't--and her fingers scrabble instinctively at the pockets of her skirt, looking for something tucked securely in the folds as her eyes never leave the white woman before her.]

[ Only a howl responds. ]

Caught but not by me. Release her.

[ The woman sneers at Rosella and where the Black Dog's glare is an infernal smolder, hers is ice and glacier blue. ]

Why does Brother Death cut you loose from the White Dog's snare?

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