The first flush of excitement burns out of her soon enough, transmutes instead into something more sustainable. She watches the proceedings in silence, drinking down the details the way a parched and thirsting person swallows down water. There's the feeling of strange dislocation again, like this can't possibly really be happening, she's not riding beside a vampire queen as her entourage busies themselves around them. But here she is, and it's real, all thoughts of flight or fight pushed right to the far-flung edges of herself.
She keeps close to Lenore - as she's sure is expected of any self-respecting bodyguard - and makes no effort whatsoever to try and start up conversation with anyone who strays into her orbit. There's the lingering feeling that the soldiers may despise or fear her, or think of her as some dumb appendage who isn't worth their time. The maid - the one other human in their midst - displays no inclination of wanting to befriend her. Nor of wanting to talk to anyone at all, for that matter. Lenore strikes her as a luminous in the midst of all this; seemingly on easy terms with everyone, relaxed and in her element. Gideon, in contrast, flanks her like an ominous shadow. No matter that it's uncertainty that makes her so stone-faced and still.
The physical reality of riding a horse through freezing drifts of snow is just beginning to push against her consciousness when Lenore begins talking at her. The fact that her body is still battered and bruised prickles at the edge of her awareness, muscles aching gently at each movement of the animal beneath her. Lenore's voice is a welcome distraction, and so she listens despite that half of what she's saying means so little to her.
"I mean, vamps aren't particularly popular among humans. You know, the whole drinking blood and turning into bats thing can be kiiiinda off-putting," her mind skips to the vampire Lenore has referred to as Zohreh as she says this, and there's a hot spike of feeling beneath her skin which she doesn't quite know how to articulate, "it seems legit, is all I'm saying. That this guy wants to take power for himself and strike out on his own. You think he's lying about the fire and stuff?"
Her interest sparks, and it shows in the contours of her face. Trap goes hand in hand with fight, and she can't help but feel interested.
no subject
She keeps close to Lenore - as she's sure is expected of any self-respecting bodyguard - and makes no effort whatsoever to try and start up conversation with anyone who strays into her orbit. There's the lingering feeling that the soldiers may despise or fear her, or think of her as some dumb appendage who isn't worth their time. The maid - the one other human in their midst - displays no inclination of wanting to befriend her. Nor of wanting to talk to anyone at all, for that matter. Lenore strikes her as a luminous in the midst of all this; seemingly on easy terms with everyone, relaxed and in her element. Gideon, in contrast, flanks her like an ominous shadow. No matter that it's uncertainty that makes her so stone-faced and still.
The physical reality of riding a horse through freezing drifts of snow is just beginning to push against her consciousness when Lenore begins talking at her. The fact that her body is still battered and bruised prickles at the edge of her awareness, muscles aching gently at each movement of the animal beneath her. Lenore's voice is a welcome distraction, and so she listens despite that half of what she's saying means so little to her.
"I mean, vamps aren't particularly popular among humans. You know, the whole drinking blood and turning into bats thing can be kiiiinda off-putting," her mind skips to the vampire Lenore has referred to as Zohreh as she says this, and there's a hot spike of feeling beneath her skin which she doesn't quite know how to articulate, "it seems legit, is all I'm saying. That this guy wants to take power for himself and strike out on his own. You think he's lying about the fire and stuff?"
Her interest sparks, and it shows in the contours of her face. Trap goes hand in hand with fight, and she can't help but feel interested.