Not in the way shadows are supposed to move. Sera doesn't like it. She's angry that she doesn't have her bow and arrows. She's angry that she was at a feast one moment and here the next, no explanation.
She's just angry. And afraid. Hard to say which is the stronger of the two.
Her hands clutch her mug of ale tight against her chest, the only reminder that she'd been celebrating the Grand Demise of Corephelus just minutes ago. It'll do as a makeshift weapon if it comes to that — at least it'll buy her some time to escape if anyone or anything tries something funny.
She's making her way through rock and rubble, always watching the shadows, but she doesn't know where she's going. When she finally spies another person she stops, scowls, tries to make herself look bigger and meaner than she feels right now, arrowless and vulnerable.
"You!" she shouts. "Hey! Listen to me! Where are we? Deep roads?" And a bit softer, to herself: "Hate the bloody frigging deep roads."
ii. city
Nope. No. No. No.
This place is decidedly Not Good.
Sera wants out. Now. So that's what she's doing, looking for an exit.
She hasn't had any luck yet and she swears she's turned the same corner five times already but everything's stupid and looks the same to her, and she has no idea where she's going. This is what happens when you spend ages following a somebody through caves and tunnels and fields and whatevers. You get used to the following and lose your own sense of direction.
She thinks. That's probably how it works, anyway.
At any rate, a loud, blood-curdling scream brings her to a halt. There's a moment of silence, eerie silence that creeps into your bones and chills you with fear because you know whatever's coming next is bad, but what comes next is another scream. Sera starts off in the direction she thinks it's coming from until she finds herself on an empty street. There's another scream, so nearby, yet she doesn't see any people, and —
Oh. Shit. It's a bird.
"No, Creepy. Stop," she tells it. It doesn't listen.
So, Sera does what any sensible person would do and starts gathering rocks. Once she has a reasonable amount she starts pitching them at the gross screaming bird with all her might.
Sera / ota
The shadows are moving.
Not in the way shadows are supposed to move. Sera doesn't like it. She's angry that she doesn't have her bow and arrows. She's angry that she was at a feast one moment and here the next, no explanation.
She's just angry. And afraid. Hard to say which is the stronger of the two.
Her hands clutch her mug of ale tight against her chest, the only reminder that she'd been celebrating the Grand Demise of Corephelus just minutes ago. It'll do as a makeshift weapon if it comes to that — at least it'll buy her some time to escape if anyone or anything tries something funny.
She's making her way through rock and rubble, always watching the shadows, but she doesn't know where she's going. When she finally spies another person she stops, scowls, tries to make herself look bigger and meaner than she feels right now, arrowless and vulnerable.
"You!" she shouts. "Hey! Listen to me! Where are we? Deep roads?" And a bit softer, to herself: "Hate the bloody frigging deep roads."
ii. city
Nope. No. No. No.
This place is decidedly Not Good.
Sera wants out. Now. So that's what she's doing, looking for an exit.
She hasn't had any luck yet and she swears she's turned the same corner five times already but everything's stupid and looks the same to her, and she has no idea where she's going. This is what happens when you spend ages following a somebody through caves and tunnels and fields and whatevers. You get used to the following and lose your own sense of direction.
She thinks. That's probably how it works, anyway.
At any rate, a loud, blood-curdling scream brings her to a halt. There's a moment of silence, eerie silence that creeps into your bones and chills you with fear because you know whatever's coming next is bad, but what comes next is another scream. Sera starts off in the direction she thinks it's coming from until she finds herself on an empty street. There's another scream, so nearby, yet she doesn't see any people, and —
Oh. Shit. It's a bird.
"No, Creepy. Stop," she tells it. It doesn't listen.
So, Sera does what any sensible person would do and starts gathering rocks. Once she has a reasonable amount she starts pitching them at the gross screaming bird with all her might.
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