(Untitled)

[hbc_dresden]

When the snow started, my first thought had been that Mab had somehow found me here. It seemed so much like that artificial winter in Chicago, sent by the Winter Queen to slow down the Summer Queen's enforcers who were after my hide. This might make it sound like she was trying to help me, but trust me, the motivations were a heck of a lot more

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[terminatefate]

Sarah was walking. Limping. Whatever. She was outside, in some sort of Antarctica snow trooper, your-guns-don't-scare-me type of outfit. It was badass white straight up to the sunglasses that needed some sort of serious anti-glare coating. The hell if she cared what it was anyway. It was warm and waterproof. Snow proof. Maybe if she was lucky, deathproof, too.

She told herself it didn't matter what the weather was or if her leg was trying to kill her, she was walking on the damn thing because it needed to be done. Currently, she was walking in the direction of the boardwalk. Again. Warily, in case someone decided to play the fool and attempt to spring holiday cheer in the form of snow-attack or snowballs in her direction

[hbc_dresden]

I've been told more than once that I have some sort of damsel-in-distress radar, and just as often that my insistence upon heeding in this day and age is more chauvinist than chivalrous, but I still can't really help it. I mean, I'm not about to watch a woman about to get eaten by a demon and say, I'm sorry, I would help you but I'm respecting your autonomy.

The woman with the cane wasn't exactly getting eaten by a demon, but seeing her fall was still enough for my inner white knight to kick in. I darted over to her, grabbed her cane, and handed it to her, offering her my other hand as well, to help her up.

"Slippery," I said. "You'd think there'd be a 'Caution: Wet Snow' sign or something."

[terminatefate]

"Augh," Sarah grumbled, and snagged his hand, then arm, and used the cane and his support to find her feet. "I think 'Caution: Annoying Island' is more fit." She tried her best to dispel the dizziness and it just made her look even more cross. And then cross turned to plain old pissed off as she tried to take a step and her knee buckled. She barely managed to keep her balance.

"Oh come on," she snapped at the Island in particular, not the man who'd stopped to help (that was rude). "It's fucking freezing out here and all I want to do is walk. Is that so hard to ask? Just a normal walk. With a cane. That's--" She spent a moment cussing under her breath, in both Spanish and English, before finally falling abruptly silent.

"I don't know if I like this place or I hate it. I'm seriously considering on hating it for the snow right now." She pulled off her shades to give him a long look as pain throbbed straight into her hipbone. "I don't think I've met you, have I?"

[hbc_dresden]

I'd opened my mouth to speak several times during that, but kept closing it again in favor of allowing her rant to continue until it was clear she was done. I cleared my throat. "Uh, no. I'm Harry. Harry Dresden..." I offered her my arm again. "Can I help you get somewhere?"

[fallen_ancient]

Secure in Timothy's continued improvement, Morgan returned to her usual patterns of haunting the beach, the forest, the boardwalk, seeking both privacy and interaction as they came to her. After an intense negotiation with the clothing box that had involved singing it several Lantian lullabies, the cloak she had lent the boys had been exchanged for another, identical but pristine white. It pleased her to camouflage herself in winter white - white woolen knit dress, white knee high boots lined with fur, white cloak with fur around the collar - and leave only the ruby red Sangraal on its gold chain and her black hair for color.

This day, she found Harry walking along the boardwalk. Although she'd long since dispensed the pretense of the Sorceress with him, she could not resist the wicked smile that curved her lips when she strayed from her path into his.

[hbc_dresden]

I lowered my sunglasses for a second to squint at her over them. Morgan. Well, she certainly did look like something straight out of the White Court. Not that I'd ever doubted she was fae. The smirk was awfully familiar, too.

We must have made quite a pair, standing there is all black and all white.

"Nice weather we're having," I commented dryly.

[fallen_ancient]

"The accursed jukebox assures me it's 'frightful'," Morgan observed, equally dryly, taking in Harry's black on black ensemble.

It looked like something the Wraith would favor, although Harry could be nothing but a knight.

She pursed her lips, head tilting to study the unfamiliar hooked stick in his hands. "Has the island changed your sword with the weather?" For she had seen one in his hut the day he had helped her.

[hbc_dresden]

"It's not my sword," I said quickly. "I, ah... I'm just holding onto it. For a friend." Even here on the island, where there was supposedly no magic, I hadn't had the guts to try wielding Amoracchius myself, afraid that my less than pure soul would unmake it.

"This used to be my staff," I said. I moved it, and the carved runes glittered slightly when the light bounced off the snow and hit them. "Now it's just a hockey stick with pretty pictures."