wanderinglost | (no subject)

(no subject)

[WELCOME TO THE AZIM STEPPE. perhaps you're there from a different ~~instance~~ timeline, or perhaps not. either way, there's a warrior of light xaela here who is sitting on the edge of the Dawn Throne, legs dangling off the cliff as she looks down over the Dotharl land. She's pretty conflicted! she also is dressed like a weirdo, and barefoot. And there's a rapier at her side, embedded in the ground so she can draw it quickly without it getting in the way while she sits.]

What a right pain this all is... They'll have the next me's head for this.

[Or maybe you're elsewhere! Ibakha the Wanderer can end up anywhere, so go nuts if you have somewhere else you'd rather she be.]

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You know little, whoever you are.

[She looks this girl over, before taking in the surroundings.]

... I should not have wandered to the sea already. There should still be many malms to go. What manner of strange place is this?

Oh, I know.

[why does her face light up when she acknowledges that?]

So I must ask these kinds of questions, see? So that I can learn more.

[nope, she really is delighted by this, sincerely.]

Malm? Hmmm... No, I don't know. It's just the same as it's always been. This little town above the sea's cliffs has always been here. Well, as long as I've come here.

It should not be here.

[Her tail flicks angrily behind her.]

What is this place?

But why shouldn't it? It's pleasant here.

[she does not bat an eye, just looks confused and tilts her head]

It's a village. What else? They fish and live their lives.

There are many malms until the ocean. My feet will never lead me astray.

Therefore... I have been moved.

Malms again? But in my experience... feet can do that very easily. It's why I am here.

[she waves to indicate her wheelbarrow, dropping her hands to its rusted and sun bleached sides]

Moved here? There isn't anything to find.

My feet will not. I am Ibakha Wanderer, whose feet have touched all the land in the world.

Then... shouldn't you know where you are? If you have touched it all.

I should. Which is why I am so perplexed.

How terrible. But you've come here now.

[Someone else is also peering down over the Dotharl lands, but from much higher up - on top of the building itself, rather than the ground. But his look wasn't a thoughtful one. Beneath the mask of his headdress, his lips curled in disgust. He could hear the girl muttering to herself below, and her words alone marked her as a Dotharl. A Dotharl, walking among Oronir? No wonder she was contemplating being in trouble.

Still, Alaqa was in a piss poor mood. He hadn't particularly wanted to come back to the Steppe after leaving a couple of years ago, but here he was, dragged back on someone else's quest like a cart full of dung sacks on their way to Reunion. If he were in a better mood, he wouldn't have leapt from the top of the building, wouldn't have landed in the shadows near the girl, and wouldn't have attempted to prod a sleeping aurochs.

Too bad Lionnet wasn't there to rein him in.]

For becoming bedfellows enough with the Oronir to not be killed on sight? I should say so.

Have you aught at all useful to say?

[She doesn't care at his jump. She doesn't care how close he approaches. She can take care of herself, and if anyone is fool enough to mess with her, she can prove why the Dotharl are so feared.

But at his words, her lips curl in abject disgust.]

Bedfellows? With the Oronir? I'd sooner cut off my own legs.

[He barks out a laugh, the puff of air that comes with it fluttering the veil for a moment.]

Cutting off your own legs is hardly a warrior's death! Are you so sure you would want to do that? Unless you plan on running into battle on the stubs of your knees.

As you say.

Perhaps I'll settle for yours.

[There we go.]

You're welcome to try, Dotharl.

[she stands.]

Are you so eager to court death?

[He doesn't move, doesn't twitch, hands remaining perfectly still at his sides.]

But I already have. And I've won.

Death is patient, fool. Only the Dotharl can escape it.

[He makes a soft 'tch' behind the veil.]

Foolish notions for fools with foolish beliefs. The only thing that can escape death is death itself.

[welp

that does it

she's drawing her sword now.]

I may not share my home with my people, but I will stand by them in spirit. An insult will be repaid with blood.

[He might not be drawing his weapons yet, but he sure is baring his teeth in a grin.]

Good. It'll be yours.

[well, okay

she's just right up in his face with a corps-a-corps now, aiming to slice him wide open.]

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