It had taken a while - and a good deal of cursing to herself - to maneuver the sleeping boy from on top of her, fingers curling sleepily at her waist, and into a far more respectable position without waking him. She did, however, allow his head to remain resting in her lap, her own fingers carding lightly through his hair as she watches him sleep
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"Sometimes I wonder if she transforms people into animals, or whether she finds the beast inside us, and frees it." Slowly, she crouches beside the star.
"Perhaps there is something about me that is, by nature, a brightly coloured bird," she muses. "It is something to which I have given much thought, but about which I have come to no conclusions."
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Her mouth opens cautiously and then closes once more as Tristran stirs slightly, mumbling something unintelligible into the material of her skirts. The smile flickers up helplessly when he turns and begins to snore lightly.
Utterly ridiculous.
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She knows who he is, of course, even if he doesn't recognize her. She could never forget those eyes or that smile. She remembers it from the day he was born.
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The woman doesn't seem particularly dangerous to her - but that's never been an accurate sort of assessment before either.
"Yes," she admits quietly. "I suppose that he is."
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"He has grown so much," she says, voice almost a murmur, "since I've seen him last."
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But she decides to stick with blinking in mild confusion.
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"I should warn you," she says, not looking at the glittery girl, "that if you leave these lands for ... over there ..." She gestures toward the village of Wall and a glint of silver glitters from one slim wrist. "... then you will be, as I understand it, transformed into what you would be in that world: a cold, dead thing, sky-fallen."
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Then she blinks solemnly and leans over, hair tumbling onto Tristran's chest, and running her fingers over the links.
She's not bad at changing the subject herself.
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She looks to the links as well, sparkling in the dim evening light.
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She doesn't look particularly convinced.
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"No," she replies. Of course not. How could she?
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She shakes her head wryly, "But he found me and bound me with an obligation, which binds my kind more securely than any chain ever could."
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And where ever did he manage to find one? she wonders, turning her gaze back to the star.
A soft, somewhat chilly, breeze passes by them, stirring the bushes and leaves of the trees so they rustle and whisper.
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"Though I am thinking that most of it is sheer stupid luck."
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But there are other things to worry about right now.
"You are under a prior obligation, are you not?" she asks the star, her expression growing serious. "You have something that does not belong to you, which you must deliver to its rightful owner."
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"Who are you?"
She might already have some ideas on the subject.
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