they put you in a box

[mortestmamere]

Who: mortestmamere, vanagandr, and I suppose if anyone wandering around Camelot wants to talk to her, they can.
What: Well, he was invited.
Where: Camelot is the place for all things.
When: October 20th
Warnings: Fruitcakery

She is coming to like this cold, dreary fortress. She enjoys the quiet of the place, the great expanses of emptiness which house only dead

Comments

[vanagandr]

Fenrir can't hear the ghosts like Christine can, so he has no way of knowing if wolves commonly wandered the halls of Camelot. Dogs, perhaps, but wolves? He doesn't know, doesn't particularly care, but in any case, he slips in and looks for her. It's his nose that he's following to find her, the scent of paint making it wrinkle, but he'll find her.

She's left traces all over, but only one is the freshest, and that is the one he follows. The humming washes over him as well, and Fenrir twitches one large ear to see if it's a tune he recognizes before nosing his way in.

He says nothing, though, instead sitting, tail curled around his back legs as he watches.

[mortestmamere]

"I'm diggin' all the way to China with a silver spoon while the hangman fumbles with the noose, boys. The hangman fumbles with the noose..."

Singing about nooses, this certainly can't surprise a single soul and her gleeful morbidity seems just as equally reflected in the canvas she is working on. She's making an odd repetitive pattern, the flailing wings of falling blackbirds, the scaled curve of serpents, and in the center of the maze a broken necklace, slipping from some unseen throat.

It's not Christine who notices that Fenrir is there, absorbed in the task in front of her, the visions in her head, but Christine is rarely alone and she pauses.

"What was that, papa?"

[vanagandr]

The wolf continues to stay silent, but whether it's because he wants to see what will come out of Christine's mouth next or because he's looking at the painting is unclear. It certainly reminds him of what has been foretold, Odin's ravens falling, his brother slipping out of the water to fight with Thor, and Gleipnir breaking so that he can destroy the All-Father with teeth and claws and fire before his heart is speared by vengeance.

Did she do research? Or is this from walking in the river and the land connected to it, whispers staying with her even after they've left?

He isn't sure. He isn't sure he wants to know. Perhaps it isn't about him at all, but his ego has always been about as large as he is.

[mortestmamere]

"Papa, stop complaining for a moment, I've almost--"

She and her paintbrush go still as she glances over her shoulder. It is rather incongruous for there to be a wolf sitting in a doorway she had anticipated would be empty, but the stumble is brief. She drops her paintbrush into a porcelain teacup of water, ignoring the way it splashes dirty water onto her hand. She smooths her palms down the front of her jeans idly, smearing paint there too.

"So he wasn't being facetious with me, hmm? Well. Hello, Fenrir. How can I amuse you?"

That had been her offer, but then she was so glib and careless with the things she said, maybe she hadn't really gotten all the way to thinking he might actually appear.