by CherryStatic » Wed Jan 06, 2016 9:10 am
Well, the highawaywoman had passed her little test, at least. She offered Ailova a smile, a secret between the two of them, a show of approval. Perhaps its meaning was lost without verbal praise, but the witch so rarely gave handouts when it came to affection, and the real test was still ahead of them. All of them.
Her gleaming eyes returned to where Elias stood at his companion's side, declaring the witch's humanity with the certainty of a judge declaring a criminal's fate. She was more than accustomed to such confidence falling from the lips of the men and women she encountered, whether it was genuine or forced. She had realized long ago that if there was one thing mankind clung to more fiercely than its ideals and its flimsy notion that morality defined existence, it was the conviction with which it regarded its own perception of the world around it, as if the world was limited to what they saw, what they believed. It had rendered the human race into the soft, broken things that crawled from settlement to settlement, wielding fire against the encroaching night and stabbing one another in the back at the first opportunity, all for the promise of money, food, pleasures of the flesh, and comfort.
And whether he realized it or not, the highawaywoman's bedfellow needed that comfort right now. He needed very much to believe that, were her spells to be pocketed and her garments to be cast aside, she would be just the same as them. That if he chose to lash out with his club, that she would crumple beneath the blow and bleed like they would. That if he decided her fate, he could make it a reality by his own hands.
"Feathers." she mused, her gaze dragging down his body in an agonizingly slow crawl before returning to his face, velvet sliding along jagged rock. Her lips twitched, one corner pulling up into a smirk. "I rather like that, I think. And I will call you 'Headsman', little falcon, for the sake of fairness. I think it suits you."
If she were younger, as naïve as she had once been, a veritable queen of the world in her own clouded view of life, she would have angered at his tone, perhaps lashed out with her powers on a whim, if for no other reason than to see him bleed for his disrespect. But, of course, that was how man thought, and these days, she would have nothing to do with the barbarism that kept the human race from achieving its potential. After all, one did not kill a dog for killing a cat. Nature was what it was.
And I am at the top of this particular food chain, little falcon.
Her eyes twinkled at him, full of quiet mirth tainted with the coy familiarity she exuded. She lifted a delicate hand and made a shooing motion with it. Instantly, every bird within a hundred feet took to wing with a thunderous flapping that echoed through the alley. The small bodies lifted like a veil, spiraling overhead as they surged away into the night, a cloud of ink in the sky. A single crow detached from the mass above to alight on her shoulder, its claws lax on her flesh, and she turned her head to regard it, one finger scratching it under its chin. She glanced at the two before her once more.
"While flattery is only an acceptable tactic in certain circles, the little magpie is correct: having a business partner at your side is always wise." Another small grin of approval was directed at Ailova. "I think that eight eyes would round things out. Fair is fair, little falcon, wouldn't you agree? After all, we are all less than the sum of the whole, and I would be most uncomfortable meeting two complete strangers in a back alley in the dead of the night without a companion. You understand, of course." It wasn't a question.
"On to business, then. I do indeed wish to acquire 'freight', as you put it, little magpie. I am not particularly concerned with how you manage to acquire it, but I am operating on a deadline, so I expect results. I would rather this not become a spectacle for the masses, so refrain from arson and murder in the streets, if you would be so kind."