The Bridge of Sighs (Intro)

[belovedamadeo]

     He looks around, confused and out of sorts as he stands in the doorway. The last memory is that of pain and then bitter cold, everything in between it all a blur of color and sensation. Things he'd rather stay forgotten. A dull ache rises in his chest, however, as a memory stirs, something vivid and colorful, meaningful. A moment of happiness

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[fairy_fingers]

She probably smells sweet. She certainly is. Young Angelique has been unable to sleep, and is out on the porch of the Mansion with a shirt on her lap. It is made of find white silk, and the exquisite patters her fingers weave on the sleeve are in grey and silver.

She's singing to herself, peacefully. If her blood smells sweet, there is also the scent of direwolf on her, though Grey Wind is not about. He's with his master, as he should be.

Angelique never accepted that Robb give up his wolf for her, she muses to herself, and that is well, though in the dark night, she might have liked to have the wolf's quiet companionship.

[belovedamadeo]

A curious thing, a strange sort of scent. A young girl. He can sense her sitting there and he follows the subtle inclination to go to her. He smiles a small smile, close mouthed so as not to frighten her off. "Aren't you lonely here all alone?"

[fairy_fingers]

She looks up, and what she sees is a handsome boy, her age or close enough, with beautiful auburn hair that reminds her of another boy she's grown to love.

"A little, Monsieur," she replies, and she stands, hands still on the needlework, gives a small curtsey. "But I would not be adverse to company, if you were to offer it."

She colors a touch for her boldness, but only a touch.

[belovedamadeo]

He watches the color rise to her cheeks and looks away, wanting suddenly very much to go back inside, hole up somewhere, and rest. Just to rest. "Perhaps another time, you're busy just now aren't you?"

[fairy_fingers]

She smiles, a little. "Oh, it's only needlework, I can do it with my eyes closed. You are no bother at all. Please."

To illustrate her claim, she is indeed embroidering and talking to him at the same time, though her eyes do fleet to where her fingers and thimble work.

If Amadeo takes a moment to examine the girl, he might notice that though she is indeed very human, she is wearing clothes that date from the nineteenth century.

[belovedamadeo]

For a moment he falls perfectly still, eyes fixed on her fingers as they work. Realizing himself he stirs from this state and his eyes travel up coming to linger again on the smooth lines of her neck. At last he meets her gaze, the corners of his lips again turning up in a small smile. "I think a walk would suit me better just now."

[fairy_fingers]

Her nimble fingers pause in their work, and she looks at the young man, startled by the proposition.

"A walk, Monsieur? But it is so dark, outside... do you not fear the dark things that lurk in the shadows?"

Poor girl. She really has no idea who she is talking to, and what danger she may yet be facing.

[belovedamadeo]

"Stay at you needle and I will go for the walk. It is what I meant. And no, I don't fear the dark things that lurk in the shadows, there is no reason for me to fear them." He turns away from her, moving down the steps lingering on the last now illuminated in the gentle glow of the moonlight.

It is there he turns her for the briefest of glance, his eyes fixing on the gentle curve of her neck, his ears picking up the subtle beating of her heart. He laughs a little as he continues away. "Besides," he says, "I am hungry and that is no good for you."

[fairy_fingers]

She looks at the new boy with very raised eyebrows, her hands still paused in their work. "Well, if you need to eat, you may not find any sustenance outside," she says, practically. "But I don't mind making dinner for you, if you want. It's not good to go around on an empty stomach."

She smiles, a little, and of course, is completely heedless of what she's saying. She's just being the sweet girl that she is, and offering help where she can.

We have no objection to him feeding on her, though we'd be grateful if she didn't die? He could probably talk his way into a voluntary donation, if he's so inclined.

[belovedamadeo]

He cannot stop a grin and even a small, almost frightening, laugh. "You would make a lovely dinner but I should rather you didn't. A walk would be better. Perhaps another time."

No but thank you! He shall leave the snacking for later I think. He's going to go look around a little to get himself oriented I think.

[fairy_fingers]

His turn of phrase makes her shudder, as does the laughter, and she finds her hands holding on to the shirt she was embroidering a bit too tightly.

"Be well, then," she tells him, though she is now both disconcerted and confused by this odd encounter.

No worries - just wanted to clarify. In general, I'm cool with just about whatever, for my puppetses. So if there's a need for nomming, we're usually able to find, er, available snacks.