[Semele's Cavern] Peace and Qui- Nevermind (Zeran)

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | "Other's Speech" |

Sana was gobsmacked. Did- did Zeran really just shrug that off? Her mouth gaped, and frown firm set, gaze locked upon the hypnotist's back as he sauntered off towards the exit. Had he not spoken of his own little surprise of her willingness to accompany him, which wouldn't have been too surprised if he'd realised her little play, she'd have likely stood frozen in place for another chime, trying to comprehend what in Gods names was going on his head. She thought that perhaps he had a couple of screws loose... but his apparent impartially to being floored by the floor? That was a level that went beyond Sana's wildest imaginations.

"It's getting late, isn't it? Safer to travel with company, even if they're a krric troo," she reasoned, deriving thorough enjoyment from the jab, though not quite sure whether or not her voice was loud enough to be heard, speaking far softer than her usual as she tried to set what had just occurred right in her mind. She had spent at least a dozen chimes trying to set up a prank, pulling it off without so much as a hitch in terms of transmutations, in her own opinion, falling Zeran as intended, for what? Nothing, it seemed.

Any hint or tell of smug glee and humour was leeched from her expression, the look seething to something far more toxic as a loud thud was followed by an exclamation about the cavern's attempts on Zeran's life. Right, because plain stone could move and writhe underfoot, and it was anyone's fault other than his own for crumbling a ledge. Unbelievable.

She slung her backpack over both shoulders, stretching her arms and back as she made her pissed off little haste towards the entrance, taking a short tick to herself as she observed the damage left in the wizard's wake. Easier up than down, was her final thought, with the younger woman glad of her height and stature as she made use of the odd roots and gouges in the stone for her first few steps.

She kept her wits about her, ignoring the first comment about her 'tagging' along, but unable to bite back a comment when she felt another soft little tug at his next remark, brushing it off with a scowl. "Did you just?" She spluttered, eyes darting and scanning the path ahead, careful to test the next hold to her above right, finding that she had to brush off fallen debris to get the proper hold. "It's not my fault you went off and damaged several of the petching holds, and I have to clear them before I can climb," she couldn't help the sharpness of her words, nor the way they nagged and lodged a bitter, trivial complaint.

She gave a sharp breath and pressed on, not allowing the full of her weight to sit on any one ledge or hole, unwilling to repeat the moron above's mistake. She kept to her usual three points of contact rule, growing largely impatient with her own speed and using the abundance of holds to make several large lunges upwards, before finding that she had little choice to use the tree as she made several awkward movements to pull herself up and out.

Unknowingly, her own reaction to the cold was not too unlike Zeran's, straightening her clothes almost immediately, and pulling her cloak in as though it were a blanket. Although she had few qualms with the cold itself, she did not fancy the thought of snow getting in places and melting, too many times a wayward snowball had ended in a yelp and funny desk, followed by the woman practically stripping to rid her shirts or skirts to rid herself of the ice before it soaked her clothing. "There, see?" She grumbled, trying not to make her act of giving the man a more thorough once over too obvious, finding the glow of the moss to have given an odd, misguiding coloration to him.

Not another look as spared on him for that moment, Sana turniing curtly on her heel as she ensured that she was the first to leave, shaking her head and shooting a glance to the skies above, almost appealing to Zulrav. "What kind of moron doesn't know reimancy when he sees it?" She spoke louder than she'd initially meant, throwing Zeran a hard, displeased look as she tried to gauge whether or not he'd quite heard her. 'I swear, I'll keep saying it until you hear me, damn it.'

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

His mouth forced itself open, catching snowflakes as Zeran failed to hold back the yawn. The sting of the cold air climbing down his throat subsided as his lips met again, tasting the flakes that had successfully flown onto his tongue. 'Cold' was all that Zeran could think, tasting of nothing as they became water on his tongue and down his throat. It was a little disappointing. He had hoped they might've picked up the flavour of the clouds they had fallen from. No such luck. He would have to fly before he could discover what clouds tasted like. Sana had taken lead, irked by whatever had upset her now as she looked back. He stood, holding her gaze for the moment until he realised she was waiting for something. Expecting something from him. "Yes?" He didn't know what it was. A brush of his face didn't catch anything, quickly returning it to the warmth of his cloak. "Is there something on my face? You're staring." Did she want something from him? Sana was wasting her time. He didn't have anything to give her. The tree stood as proud as it had done when Zeran had first climbed down, still carrying its weight of snow, a circle marking its boundaries as clumps had fallen from their branches down to the ground below. The trunk was rough to the touch, cracking as lips did in the cold when not properly cared for. "She's an odd one, isn't she?" The snow still fell, reduced by the shelter the pine provided to visitors. "And so are you," he said, trying to not catch his hand on the bark as the cold tried robbing it of feeling the second it touched outside air again. "But that isn't necessarily a bad thing, is it? I don't think so anyway. Just look at me?" He had thought it to have been showing off when he had first rested against it, but Zeran now saw it was fully capable of standing against the weather. Nature against nature. It was unlikely it was going to win against itself, but it was just as unlikely it was going to lose against itself. Its sheer size boasted it had faced similar conditions before and survived, and said this year was no different to it. "I'll visit you again sometime. Promise." Whatever distance Sana had made between them was closed as Zeran pranced towards her, jumping every so often above the snow to remove what had already begun to build up. "If you've got something to say or ask, please be blunt with me when doing so as you were before? I might not understand and ignore you otherwise." He really did have no idea what she had said or asked before, but that didn't mean Sana needed to know. She'd hopefully stop alluding to anything, when there was something on her mind, if she thought he was deliberately being difficult when she was doing so. Zeran would give her the answer quicker if he didn't have to spend time working out what she was asking. "Like this. I don't like the look of that cloud," his cane emerged from underneath his cloak, pointing at the object in question. His hands were not making another journey into the icy winds if something else could brave it. "We need to get moving before we get caught in whatever it is bringing." Mounds formed against his feet as Zeran pushed through the building snow, stepping over as they grew too big to be worth the trouble. "Am I the only one beginning to lose feeling in my toes?" He'd already lost it. Keeping feet submerged under the snow was evidently not the best for wading through it. Sure, it kept them covered from the wind, but in what? Ice! I've opted to keep my feet out of cold air by burying them in ice! Looking back on it, it was a stupid plan, but it was a learning curve as well. Zeran just wanted to know if he was the only one to have made the mistake to avoid the effort of raising his feet any higher. Step over the snow next time. The guide and her okoma weren't anywhere to be seen. Who could blame them? Nobody fancied staying out in heavy snow for the majority of the day if it meant losing your fingers. She must've left before the weather got too bad for the trail to be trekked. Though Zeran had heard okoma were meant to be good climbers, so maybe she had stuck around for a while before leaving. The first few steps of the incline were already choosing to become a problem. Snow compacted to ice under the crunch of Zeran's steps, creating a slippery surface exactly where he stood. He had slipped on his first attempt, sprawling across the snow as his face froze, despite the warm, red cheeks. "I might need to take this a bit slower," he said, spitting snow from his mouth as he lifted himself up on his cane. "What do you think, Lady Hothead?"

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

"Nothing," Sana hummed quietly, shaking her head as she pressed onwards, not bothering to strain herself to hear whatever it was the man was murmuring in such hushed tones and stern words. It was obvious enough that it was not she he spoke to, and with his prior antics, and his unnerving willingness to accept thought that the world merely had it out in him, made no effort to eavesdrop or worry. Zeran, as far as she could so far tell, was just Zeran. Weird. Really weird.

She took pleasure in her pace, letting her own gaze wonder about the snowing terrain, a wicked, satisfied little smirk playing on her lips for a moment, deriving a sort of amusement from making the one who'd ordered her to hurry make haste to catch up.

She hadn't expecting him to make further comment on the matter, more or less plotting some witty way she could weasel a reimancy remark into the conversation, perhaps as an example to what could be done with the discipline, or about the many ways that overgiving could manifest. After a stall and a frown, the sight of brooding clouds took up her vision, and she gave a huff and groan, knowing full well that her options were to either remain silent and agree with his remark through action, or speak as such as well.

Sana had walked in such snow before, her gaze ever flitting from her feet to the road and to the horizon as she kept close watch of the dimming light and the placement of snow and ice, along with inclines and unwanted accompaniment. In terms of things that went with 'wilderness survival,' her knowledge was practically non existent. Even when she was in a place where it'd make sense enough for her to learn how to care for herself, her old childhood habit of shadowing those older than her meant that there was little she'd tried out for herself. In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have been so lazy.

When Zeran spoke some comment about cold feet, the suddenness of his words swayed and jolted her, before she quite registered what he was staying. "You're kidding," it was the kindest thing that came to mind, and she pressed her lips as she killed any further snide remark before she could voice it.

"Lift your feet, you're supposed to-" her words were a pleading sigh, cut off as she noted his own little revelation, and finding that she was speaking more for the sake of herself, anyhow. She could feel all the tells and affects that came with overgiving quite well, then, her heart still not calmed and a desire lurking to try another trick. There were probably other signs that'd amounted, as well, her mind too caught in the situation, and body too worn for her to think quite straight.

Sighs and head shakes continued as Zeran then fell, his little technique not one suited in the slightest for dealing with inclines, before a giggle escaped her at his nonchalant reaction. Should she help him? Or watch him squirm? The latter sounded most enjoyable, though the former would leave her feeling kind at heart. The latter it was. "I think you should just try your best, Zeran." She gave a little smirk as she curved around him, ensuring that each step put an even weight, and keeping far enough that another fall on his behalf would not cause her to be startled and lose her own footing.

It was more of a downwards march than a walk, her own first steps experimental before she tried not to make a fool of herself. Soon she possessed a steady rhythm, ensuring to dig in her heel and ensure that her footing was firm before continuing on with the next step. See? Nice and easy.

Sana turned and shot a proud little look to Zeran. "I can't quite tell if it's the overgiving," she began to ask, trying to keep her look composed and cool, as though she wasn't on the verge of falling. "Or-" She shifted her weight the slightest bit to the left, the sudden downwards pull on one side causing a jolt and yelp, before she attempted a recovery too late, falling herself worse than if she'd let herself hit the ice.

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

"Trying my best landed me on my face," Zeran countered, leaning on his cane like an old man. The trenches reaching from his feet only taunted him as he slid down the slope. "Not the sagely sort, I take it?" Why was it so hard? Ice, most likely, but there had to be something more to it than that. There must be a technique to it, one that would help traversing snow slopes. Zeran bit the inside of his cheek, watching Sana secure her footing as she climbed higher than he had on his first attempt. There she stood, tall and strong. A smile adorned her face as she turned, showing that she was not the idiot that Zeran had thought her to be. Perhaps there was something more to this woman, wizard or not. An intellect formed from the countless experiences the land had to throw. One that could not simply be stopped by the elements themselves, and so trains in the reimancy she claims to prove that she was their master. Sana stood higher than him, and Zeran came to accept that he had been wrong about her. Then she fell, and the valleys of Kalea were filled with his laughter. Nope! I was right the first time! "This is a 'do as I say, not as I do' moment, isn't it?" he said, laughter subsiding as he looked back at the pine tree behind them. Both of them had failed to get very far before gracefully falling, and time wasn't a luxury for the moment. The unpleasant thought of being caught in something worse than the current snowfall, having reached a point too late to turn back, did wonders for the prospect of staying in the cavern for the night. Hopefully the worst would've passed overhead by the following morning. Sana, for her part, probably wasn't going to let one slip-up defeat her. She had too much pride in herself to let it, and Zeran would be disappointed in her if she did. She'd held herself too well for that. The narrow point of the cane slid through the ice with ease, reaching earth beneath its layers. Leaning aside, forcing the tip into the ground, Zeran shifted most of his weight to his cane. It bit further, stabilising it all the more, preventing the weight needed to create ice beneath each step and allowing him to take slower steps without the concern of falling. His boot found ground as his cane had, shifting his foot back and forth to shovel snow out of the way. Enough snow had been shifted, and Zeran rested his boot atop the newly uncovered earth, rocking his cane from its hole and relocating it. The process began again with the other foot, digging through the layers of ice, searching for the earth. It wasn't going to be the new way to walk amongst the people of Lhavit but, with his current equipment and knowledge, it got him further up the slope. That was all Zeran cared for. "Would you like a hand up? You look like a crime scene gone wrong." He offered a hand at Sana, leaning onto his cane once more for stability. "Though I suppose that isn't a bad thing if you're still breathing." With Sana on her feet again, Zeran didn't waste another tick of Tanroa's time, continuing forward with his odd, yet practical, walking method. "So, what were you about to say?" he called over his shoulder. "You know, before you fell. Something about overgiving? I don't think I've overgiven." Asides from a slowly creeping tiredness, and perhaps a slight headache if the cold wasn't the culprit, Auristics hadn't doen anything major to him beyond what standard novices felt. Or so Alses had told him. The coolness of his fingers surprised him as they brushed over his eyes, ears and mouth. He had expected them to be colder from the way they felt. The cloak was doing its job keeping the heat. No blood was visible on his fingers. No overgiving from Hypnotism either then, and he would've felt overgiving begin to take hold with Projection. "Nope, I haven't overgiven. Thanks for the concern though!"

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

The last thing Sana wanted was help, but neither was she fond of the thought of making a fool of herself further than she already had. Zeran could have laughed quieter, any how. At least made an attempt at smothering the cackle that resounded so loud in Sana's ears her cheeks flushed with equal parts embarrassment and anger.

'Damn stupid petching ice.'

With a groan and a glare she was once more on her feet, and she dusted the powder snow from her clothing, before doing a thorough check for all and any hunks that could melt and dampen her clothes. "Thank you," she said, short and stiff, almost regretting the words as she felt they may have landed upon deaf ears, her form almost crippled with a surge of bitterness.

She could scarcely carry herself tall as chatter once more erupted and they continued their journey, Zeran never quite failing to surprise her as he once more mistook her words. 'I have likely over given, you dimwit. I couldn't care less if your little hypnotism ploys or personal-space-invading projection sent you stupid. That's all very well your own damn fault.'

Even with her bitter thoughts, and the unyielding compulsion to make some form of snide remark or another, it was always a point of interest to the young reimancer to hear of all the little things that overgiving brought.

Everything was much more noticeable with her magic, it was easy to go too far so the signs often came quickly. Well, in the case of herself and her constant toeing the line of her limits, that was. She had a penchant for baiting temptation and sweet whispers, then testing whether or not she could handle it. It was almost a game to her, and a dangerous one at that.

She continued on with an eye roll so hard it hurt, mumbling bitterly to herself some unintelligible trail of 'who's concerned, now?' and 'damned hypnotists-projectionist asshole.'

"Any time," she called, sarcasm seething as she continued her own little walk up the hill, at this point not even bothering a mere mention at Zeran's ridiculously stupid and efficient, as she thought it, method.

"Where are you even heading, by the way?" she said, words a huff of annoyance as it slowly dawned on her that she'd made a terrible decision, shortly freaking herself out as a fear loomed about the man's possible affiliation with a tower, shuddering at the thought that perhaps that he, too, resided in Tower's Respite.

Sana was the kind who never left her wing, her small collection of reimancer friends quite 'elitist' in terms of their practise being the most deadly of those endorsed by the Towers, so it wasn't impossible that she'd merely never seen the man around. "I'm not going to share the road with you until we reach the Respite, or a road leading to a tower, am I?" She couldn't be less thrilled at the thought.

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

An incredulous face peered out between the strands of dangling hair. Had she really just asked that question? The cold must've gotten to her head and frozen whatever sense she had. He wasn't walking the same way as her out of any sense of chivalry. Sana had said she'd come with him, much to his own surprise. "Same place as you," he said, giving his face a rest from its expression. "Lhavit. I'm pretty sure I told you that was where I was wanting to go not long after your failed meditation." How tempting it was to flick back into an aurist's world, even for a moment, just for a chance to read what Sana was feeling as she asked her questions. Had he the concentration, Zeran was certain he would've dipped into the waves and swirls to sate the growing interest. Yet his mind was already blurring from previous uses, and the cold served as an excellent means to distract him from any remaining ability to concentrate he may have had. Each use was only going to further that fatigue until a headache or sudden unconsciousness suggested overgiving. "Why the Respite, of all places?" Reverting to more mundane means to answer his questions had its perks. He was just as likely to get an accurate idea of Sana's thoughts from her as he did guessing what colours and shapes translated to. "And probably. The Respite is on the Zintia Peak, isn't it? I'm passing through to get to the Sartu Peak. Lady Elena was kind enough to give me a room on her estate when she took me on as a companion." Familiar streets and turns flashed by in sequences, mapping out the long journey back. Zeran groaned, not wanting to stay outside for any extended periods of time. Stopping by the Zintia Rest was becoming a greater possibility by the chime. A bath and a bed sounded very attractive to rest in before making the journey back. Zeran just hoped that the Lady of the manor had no tasks that only he would suit before he got back. Though being the guinea pig in a number of her experiments hadn't revealed any long-lasting health hazards as of yet, so offering might be enough for forgiveness, even if she only ever pouted like a child. Elena Lariat wasn't the strictest of employers. "Are you meeting someone there?" His guess was she lived in the Respite, having insisted she knew reimancy but refusing to show it. Zeran's game continued. He hadn't been able to get a demonstration out of Sana back in the cavern, so he still only had the redhead's word on the subject. After having been carted around with liars, thieves and cut-throats as a slave, he was more than aware how much a stranger's word was worth alone. Regardless of what 'evidence' Sana might've thought she had, he wasn't about to outwardly show he believed her until she gave him proof. "We already established you're not a reimancer, and you never said anything about auristics and morphing, so you can't be living there, can you?" Just because Sana hadn't mentioned them didn't mean she didn't know them. Zeran had left out his own hypnotism when asked, and it seemed she had worked that out, but he enjoyed leaving holes in his own arguments for people to exploit. It gave his conversation partners a chance to fight back, even if his own reasoning was completely absurd. Some would continue to argue their points, others would give up knowing they were not going to win against whatever whimsical argument Zeran would reply with. "Meeting up with someone important? A boyfriend perhaps?" He cast one more glance over his shoulder as he chuckled.

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

'No, no, Sana thought, teeth grinding as she increasingly found Zeran's words and manner of everything painfully roundabout. ‘Why would I go to Tower's Respite? You can't be learned in the arcane, but a cave can make attempts on my life.’

Was it really do hard to speak plainly, and wasn't he only a chime ago complaining about the ambiguity of her own complaints and grumbles, only to go off and make plays on her words when what she meant was bleeding obvious?

The jab in regards to her apparent lack of talent in the art of meditation stirred an internal ire about her. She could either calm herself not to act or lash out. One way she’d effectively make it seem as though she was agreeing with his words, the other way proving him right as she tried to defend herself. Oh, joy of joys.

She gave in to herself, and a more active display of her magic, bidding her chest to rise and fall at an even pace as she avoided the hunks and sections of packed-snow-turned-ice left in Zeran's wake, the smallest, slowest pooling of res into her hands as she sought to create little more than several marble like objects, keeping her accompaniment's words light on her mind, working her thoughts and comments into mantras as she kept fast to her mediation.

'Lady Elena. Lady Elena. Lady Elena. Sartu Peak.' they were familiar enough in thought, though Sana wasn't all too sure who the woman was, almost taking the use of the word 'Lady' as a title before she realised his habit to call, as far as she knew, any female by such.

She transmuted the first of the few rough rocks when Zeran made comment about her not being a reimancer, her blood boiling for a moment before she managed to cool her ire and put it to work. ' 'Can't be living there, can you?' ' he says, she set work with the next stone, this one smaller still with the snail pace of her res production, and the increasing struggle it took for her to control the transformations.

She was on the higher end of novice with her reimancy, likely only another hellish class or two away from attaining another fun little element to play with, so she wasn't anywhere near the slowest of the slow, but neither was she all that quick, even more so given that she'd done quite the number back in the cave. 'That damned... The cave, out to kill him?'

She started from the outside, and worked her way in with her transmutation, throwing her thoughts in the air as she put another mantra in mind. 'Slow and steady, slow and steady. Work your way in.'

She almost fell when the next words were spoken, colour flushing to her cheeks at the sudden thought, heating even more so as he fixed her with that blighted look.

She wasn't even finished her third transmutation when she pelted her handy work at Zeran's head, only just managing the shell of the final stone before she pulled back her res and took aim, nailing the man in the head once, and twice on the shoulder, aigh of relief hitting her as she drew in the small amount of res that was left unused.

"You're an idiot." She announced, the throw landing her off balance, and almost hitting ice and slipping, recovering quick enough to get an angry word in before falling to her knees, not happy to stop her rant there. "There, is that blatant enough to satisfy you? Gods, don't you dare act like I'm being difficult when you're just too bloody daft to realise what has happened. 'The cave is trying to kill me,'" her tone was seething with sarcasm, hands on hips as she knelt in snow, pretending not to notice or care as she felt lesser protected spots here and there begin to dampen and chill her.

"Yeah, sure. Ok Zeran. It's the cave. Not the one who literally told you she was a reimancer." Her groan was audible for at least two dozen meters in every direction, and she shifted her hands from her hips to folded in front her as she fixed the man an almighty glare.

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

His smile quickly abandoned him to his fate as Sana swung in his direction, crying out in pain and shock as something caught him just above the eye. Reflexes helped little, forcing him to face the assailant, only opening him up to two more shots to his shoulder. Zeran's head led his body backwards, a futile attempt to avoid further attacks, toppling him over as weight shifted on ice. An insult, spoken in haste so he was sure to here it before falling, followed by a cushion of snow lifting his body from the ground. The sky hadn't changed by much in the passing chimes, and the cold pounced at the opportunity to bite as Zeran's cloak laid open. He blinked. This was the second time today he'd ended on his back, looking upwards as he processed what had just happened ticks before. Fingers probed the snow, like birds for worms, searching for the objects that Sana had thrown his way. If they were as heavy as they had felt against his head, they couldn't have landed too far away. Not a word left Zeran's mouth as he searched, only wisps of steam whenever he breathed, his expression a mix of shock and thought. Sana talking at him, but only paying slight attention to her words again. A smooth, hard surface brushed against hand, and his fingers caged the item instantly. Snow fell from the gaps, compacting under the grip as not to let the object fall with it. A small, spherical pellet came under his scrutinising eyes. Zeran scratched a nail against its face, some amount of payback for assaulting his earlier. Whilst definitely smooth, it was nowhere near perfectly so. The nail caught in ridges an peaks, gravely to the touch. His lips slowly stretched into a content smile, friendly and devoid of his usual mischief. It was just about as much proof as he was going to get. Sana hadn't stopped, neither had she waded through the snow in search, and the spherical shape looked too perfect to be thought of as naturally-occurring from Semele's Cavern. Clapping filled the silence Sana's groan had left them in, slow and confident, as Zeran held the stone above his head. "All right, Lady Sana, you win. I believe you. You're a reimancer." The clapping stopped as he turned the stone under his gaze again. "An earth one at least. Though you did just technically launch a rock at me." Zeran sat up, his back significantly cold, and his cloak patched with flakes-turning-water. "Know any other elements?" He was becoming use to digging heels and toes into the snow, providing him with some grip as Zeran climbed to his feet. Ice was just one of Mizahar's challenges, however, and just because he could walk through a bit of snow didn't mean he was going to be living comfortably in caves any time soon. It's a start though! For her part, Sana knelt in the snow, glaring with enough intensity to make Zeran feel slightly uncomfortable. She did the 'I-want-to-hurt-you' glare very well. He almost believed she was going to attack when his back turned to her, had he not believed Sana had more sense. "Please get up, Lady Sana. Kneeling in front of someone else really doesn't suit you." His cloak snapped as it caught pockets of air, jarring excess snow from building up once more. He wasn't doing well in the snow, having let his temperature drop again. Perhaps he shouldn't have lain in the snow thinking as long as he had, especially without trying to wrap up. Resuming his trek up, Zeran realised the gates had never looked so far away, and how underrated a fire truly was. "Also," he didn't turn this time, pushing forwards, "considering we live in a world where you can control the elements, I can detach a layer of my soul, we can bring inanimate things to life, and the gods can toy with us as they see fit, I'd suggest thinking very carefully about how ridiculous a sentient cave actually sounds." He'd ventured into one not even half a season before on the expedition. A Shinya, a kelvic, a ghost, and a ragtag team of volunteers, sent underground to discover the source of the earthquakes that Lhavit was still healing from. Though it was doubtful that Sana was in a mood to believe anything he said. Zeran waved Sana forward, deliberately showing his brand back at her. "The world is a bigger and more dangerous place than you seem to realise, Lady Sana. There are plenty of fantastic things to see outside the cities, though living to see them a second time is a bit of an issue." His hand withdrew to the confines of his tightly-wrapped cloak once more. "Now, can we keep moving? A fire sounds very appealing and, unless you can produce one, I want to find one now!"

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | oocSorry for my lateness! Though it is good to be able to write a slightly calmer Sana Side note, I really need to get my mind out of the gutter when I read/write :|

To see that Zeran went down as well as she had was some semblance of joy to her, Sana taking a sharp breath in through her nose before expelling it as a heavy sigh, so keen for distraction she watched the formation and dispersion of her white breath.

When she finally gained the acknowledgement she sought, she almost gave a scoff at the words and the clapping that came prior. She'd set out to do little more than prove that she had magic, that she could fashion rock and stone at her very will, that she was just as much of an adversary as he was, or will be in due time (or at least, when adhering to the many restrictions of a novice). She didn't want to do anything more than that.

"I'm afraid not," she sighed, bitter herself for her lack of progress, words of how she was on the precipice of becoming skilled enough to add another element to her arsenal springing to her lips, biting back the words just quick enough that she didn't look strange. Those dabbling in the arcane were taught first and foremost to keep an ace forever up their sleeve, and she was intent to keep at least some things kept secret, even if it was something so horribly minor.

The dampness about her knees and shins was seeping through to her skin as glared absently forward for a moment more, Zeran's little comment slamming her back into reality as she pulled herself up, mulling over how to take the offhand remark as the projectionist moved forward with the trek. He was calling her by name, at least, which was quite the good start, in her own mind, though she was caught in thought as she struggled to place the 'kneeling' comment. Was it a slight, or a compliment? Perhaps it was neither.

She soldiered on with snail pace and a breath of annoyance, pulling her cloak close and tight as chills rocked her body. She'd done a rather magnificent job of begrudgingly ignoring the fact that she was cold beyond imagination, but she was reaching her limit, and thoughts of the sweltering heat of Wind Reach did little to still or calm her.

She put her mind on the common rooms of the Towers' Respite, of bedding and blankets and a warmth hearth, even the thought of possibly being called for duty in the kitchens did sound too bad at all, the firing of stoves meaning that the entire room was an oven itself during the peak hours when the reimancer worked, and a new wave of homesickness washed over her.

It was such a suffocating feeling, the tight ache in her chest dulling her care for the icy world, almost so much that she nearly slipped once more as her footing turned sloppy.

When thoughts of magic and religion were brought to life, Sana could scarcely help the short chuckle that left her, cutting herself off as her balance was threatened, the cold that was spreading out around her legs aiding little in her attempts. "I can't fault you there," she called, playing with the thought before throwing it back, welcome to the diversion offered, and unwilling to spoil it send herself back into wallowing in bitterness. "None the less, I'd like to think that if one of the most well known caverns of the Misty Peaks has been given life, that it's be a well enough known fact."

In a few ways, it was a valid enough statement, with the young reimancer herself strictly interested in the many wonders of personal magic, none of which lent itself to bringing rock and stone to life. Would anyone know if a cave was brought to life? Would it merely sit in wait and silence until something - or someone - of interest came along? Did it serve a purpose? Was it merely practice, or meant to labour or entertain.

She continued crunching through the snow, the usual pattern of digging in heal and toe before walking as a march serving as her favoured technique, not willing to make the same mistake of holding herself too high, regardless of how much she desired to do so.

A gesture caught her attention, eyebrows drawing as she noted some marking upon Zeran’s hand, her gaze following too delayed to get much of a good look at, her concentration too soon snatched up by the words that followed, throwing a glance behind her as she understood how little they’d truly travelled. “I think I can easily say that I know more than you think I do, Zeran,” she wagered, pulling herself together as she took longer strides, not quite waiting until she was fully secure to give each step, more easer to move than she was worried of falling.

“And I don’t exactly remember asking you to wait for me,” she drawled, the tail end of her words rather clipped, debating whether or not she wished to overtake the man, given how well such an act had played out the first time. Her gaze fell to the arm with the hand with the mark, and she pressed her lips as her thoughts dwelt on it, pace increasing enough that she was a good several steps lagging behind, trying not to make her short glances to see if she could catch another sight of it too obvious.

“For your information,” she gushed, the slightest of slips and short imbalance striking a strange sense of guilt through her, the words already formed on her lips before she had the wits to stop them. “I wasn’t born or raised in Lhavit, either,” she almost cringed at her own words, damning her own habits of not allowing sentences to go half-said. “I was born in Wind Reach,” she trailed slightly, not liking how her case sounded herself. “Beautiful, thriving, but… unkind, brutal. Elitist, I think, is a word that I’d use to describe it,” a huff of white breath and she shot Zeran a sideways look, not willing to verbally express her desire to hear what so called big and danger places he’d seen, doubtful with the age he she’s figured him for.

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne