Who You Are in the Dark Jun 15, 2014 18:57:42 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Jun 15, 2014 18:57:42 GMT -6
Isolation should take more of a toll than this on a person, if Shetani is being honest with herself. The woman shoulders her icebox of food and furrows her eyebrows, her head turning; the forest is wide and wild around her, and she knows the way to her cabin by heart now. Her eyes can be closed and the woman can still find her way there; that is how long she has lived out here, in the places away from the rest of Hryst, and done so by her own election, her own desires, however base they may yet be found to be; her head raises and she looks back, eyebrows furrowing, her breath rushing in. Shetani makes a soft little sound in her throat and adjusts the way she holds her basket, but her step is picking up slightly. It is not the beasts she fears. She knows how to flee form them and duck away, hiding herself in little places to make them look her by.
It is the scent that is slowly gaining ground on her that makes Shetani's step quicken. Something is lurking, there, in the brush; Shetani's hearing is not gifted but her smell is enough. When her nostrils flare, she jerks her head around and lets her teeth bare; how can she tell this thing behind her that she is not worth harrassing? The scent is nearly-foreign. One or two in her passing have had this smell, a far-away and stale scent, the scent of world (and she doesn't realize it is the scent of Zhadrah, really, but she'll come to that conclusion later on). The blonde touches the pink flower tucked within her hair and tugs her traveling dress, and her hand then goes to her basket. Within the basket is a small filleting knife, and though she doesn't know much on how to properly use it, she can throw it effectively.
Shetani turns, walking backwards now, disguises her worry as she looks up again, frowning as if it's due to rain. And perhaps it is; the air smells earthy. Shetani turns once more and picks up her pace, hunching over and turning once more to stare upon the air, murmuring quietly. "Well, Brynne. Let's see what this is..." She doesn't draw the knife yet, for she may want the safety of surprise on her side, but something, she discerns, is definitely behind her. She does not like that at all.