(Untitled)

Dec 27, 2006 22:41

Clarice likes Milliways a whole lot better now that she's not stuck here ( Read more... )

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treading_dawn December 28 2006, 03:51:39 UTC
There is a flash of gold through the snow-covered underbrush to her left.

It is not accompanied by the crunching of footprints that one might expect in weather such as this.

And there is, distinct and unmistakable, a scent of violets in the air.

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no_more_chianti December 28 2006, 03:57:32 UTC
The flash catches her eye, and Clarice turns her head to follow it, posture stiffening.

What's that smell? Flowers?

"Who's there?" she calls.

Maybe it's just a very fragrant demon rabbit. There's no way of telling around this place.

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treading_dawn December 28 2006, 04:04:10 UTC
There is another flash of gold, closer still, and then a figure is stepping through the greenery, velveted paws silent in the snow.

The Lion lowers his head to look her in the face, golden eyes solemn and bright.

"I am, Daughter of Eve."

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no_more_chianti December 28 2006, 04:28:09 UTC
And that's ...

That would be a lion.

A lion who apparently knows something about Christianity?

And can, you know. Talk.

... Of course.

Clarice wants to laugh, except she's-- not afraid, exactly. It's more like the crazy adrenaline that comes with being afraid, and which she usually chooses to focus on instead of the actual fear.

And so, sounding baffled and somehow amused, as if this is some joke she just doesn't get yet, she says, "I ... I don't think we've met, actually."

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