(Untitled)

[no_justice]

The horse is white. The rider wears black.

They appear from... well, it's not obivous where they appear from. It would be nice to give a long and graphic description of rends in the fabric of reality, with blue sparks and smoke and big crashing chords, and lots and lots of adjectives

Comments

[red_mare]

Normally, Jah-lila would be avoiding the stables. It is no offense to those who work or dwell there, but she has ill memories of her own time in such places long ago, and they are only easily overcome with bad weather to force her to it.

Of course, that is normally. Jah-lila is currently the guardian of a small brown cat named Capi, and Capi likes the stables, because they're warm and THERE ARE MICE. So she has been following him about to see this for herself. Thus, there is a red unicorn, black-maned, black-tailed, and black-horned, when the white horse appears from nowhere. She whistles in surprise, and then takes a step back as the rider dismounts.

[no_justice]

Both horse and rider turn at the whistle to look at the unicorn with blue lights glowing from within empty eye sockets, and a bright but otherwise unremarkable ste of black horsey eyes.

Not in that order.

GOOD AFTERNOON, the rider says, bowing his head politely. There's only been one unicorn on the Disc in many centuries, but he came for them, just as he comes for everyone.

[red_mare]

The white da smells normal enough, and sounds normal enough. The rider... well, the rider's a bit strange. By any means.

"Good afternoon," Jah-lila answers, dipping her own head in the bow of her own people. "I do not think I know you, do I?"

Capi, for his part, would like to meet the new person and thus slinks out from the corner to make a few tentative moves in the direction of the black robes.

[no_justice]

NOT YET, Death says, friendly enough. And, because people around here seem to need it pointed out to them, he adds, I AM DEATH.

There doesn't appear to be anyone working the stables today, so he sets about tending to Binky himself, finding a bale of hay and removing the extravagent tack from the sweating warhorse. Never let it be said Death is afraid to get his bones dirty.

Capi, should he come close enough, will be treated to behind-ear scritches from fingers that to all intents and purposes might well have been designed for behind-ear scritches.

[sto_helit]

It's a Susan. And she's smiling.

It's kind of an odd sight. "Grandfather."

[no_justice]

But it's a welcome sight, if you're her grandfather.

GOOD AFTERNOON, SUSAN, he says. HOW ARE YOU?

[sto_helit]

"Good." Susan lets out a little breath, smiles a bit wider. "Really good. Are you done with The Duty for today?" --nodding to Binky, who's trying to eat a tree in an aimable kind of way.

[no_justice]

I AM, Death says, as he starts to work in the buckles of Binky's bridle AND WHY ARE YOU SO GOOD?