What [sheathing her daggers, wiping blood off her face, panting] in the name of my ancestors [kicking the massive black carcass of the bear where it lies] is wrong with the surface?
[Wulfwyn and Cosette have not had much chance to talk. Wulfwyn had rather intended that this outing should provide time enough for two thirds of the remaining population of Grey Wardens in Ferelden to actually get to know each other without being interrupted by bloodshed. They had paired off to fetch clean water, and succeeded in finding a clear burbling creek. Unfortunately, so had the bear.
Wulfwyn crouches down, a little fussy as she prods at the still-warm body. Her heartrate is slowing down. Now that her incredulous horror is draining away she understands that the thing -- big as a bronto -- is more like a giant mole or something, furry and squash-faced. She’s read about bears; they show up occasionally in literature about surface politics, as a heraldic emblem. The heraldry doesn’t do it justice. She never pictured them with fur for some reason. There’s something about its familiarity and its strangeness that makes her gut churn. She takes a breath and doesn’t let her discomfort show.]
You share your world with these things. I’m amazed they don’t rule the place. [Alarming as the fur is, it’s soft and thick between Wulfwyn’s fingers. She flexes her hand, then flashes a smile.] How much do their pelts fetch?
[She knows, of course, that Circles exist and are closed off; so what? Surface is surface, and if dwarves had to deal with mages and bears she would personally to convince the former to take care of the latter. The idea that Cosette might be just as unfamiliar with this aspect of the surface as Wulfwyn is hasn’t quite sunk in.]
[ It's a reasonable question as far as Cosette is concerned. Had she not been wearing gloves, her fingers would be bone-white around her staff; as it is, the leather is still new enough to creak ominously when she clenches her fists.
Hearing Morrigan describe the wonders of living free in the Wilds had been enchanting, almost seductive, compared to Cosette's life of stairways and dusty bookshelves. It was almost easy to forget the blisters on her feet, the filth that sticks to her hair, the noise... The darkspawn, she understands, are new and unpleasant to everyone, but all of these other things that people just... live with?
She equally expected Aeducan to have more experience with wild things than her; maybe not the same creatures underground, but the walls of the tower have been the borders of everything she knows for more than a decade, and as a child she certainly never dealt with any animal beyond her mother's lapdogs. Bears and wolves were the same as phoenixes and dragons: tales from taxonomic books and descriptions of faraway lands. ]
Did you never do... royal hunts of things like this?
[ She gives Wulfwyn and the bear alternating looks of wide-eyed distate, as if she'd suggested picking the corpse up and dancing with it. Pelt --- is she actually going to skin the thing? Physically? With her hands? ] ... You could get a few good runes for it from the Tranquil, I imagine.
[ Which is her way of saying: I have no idea. She barely remembers what currency is, having no use for it as a pampered child and even less in the Circle. But the fur could trim several robes, which makes it useful to the ones doing the enchanting.
Cosette is not going to help skin it, though. Absolutely not. She'll fetch Alistair if she has to. ]
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warden_enchanter) wrote2017-04-21 10:18 am
COSETTE AMELL
no subject
[Wulfwyn and Cosette have not had much chance to talk. Wulfwyn had rather intended that this outing should provide time enough for two thirds of the remaining population of Grey Wardens in Ferelden to actually get to know each other without being interrupted by bloodshed. They had paired off to fetch clean water, and succeeded in finding a clear burbling creek. Unfortunately, so had the bear.
Wulfwyn crouches down, a little fussy as she prods at the still-warm body. Her heartrate is slowing down. Now that her incredulous horror is draining away she understands that the thing -- big as a bronto -- is more like a giant mole or something, furry and squash-faced. She’s read about bears; they show up occasionally in literature about surface politics, as a heraldic emblem. The heraldry doesn’t do it justice. She never pictured them with fur for some reason. There’s something about its familiarity and its strangeness that makes her gut churn. She takes a breath and doesn’t let her discomfort show.]
You share your world with these things. I’m amazed they don’t rule the place. [Alarming as the fur is, it’s soft and thick between Wulfwyn’s fingers. She flexes her hand, then flashes a smile.] How much do their pelts fetch?
[She knows, of course, that Circles exist and are closed off; so what? Surface is surface, and if dwarves had to deal with mages and bears she would personally to convince the former to take care of the latter. The idea that Cosette might be just as unfamiliar with this aspect of the surface as Wulfwyn is hasn’t quite sunk in.]
no subject
Hearing Morrigan describe the wonders of living free in the Wilds had been enchanting, almost seductive, compared to Cosette's life of stairways and dusty bookshelves. It was almost easy to forget the blisters on her feet, the filth that sticks to her hair, the noise... The darkspawn, she understands, are new and unpleasant to everyone, but all of these other things that people just... live with?
She equally expected Aeducan to have more experience with wild things than her; maybe not the same creatures underground, but the walls of the tower have been the borders of everything she knows for more than a decade, and as a child she certainly never dealt with any animal beyond her mother's lapdogs. Bears and wolves were the same as phoenixes and dragons: tales from taxonomic books and descriptions of faraway lands. ]
Did you never do... royal hunts of things like this?
[ She gives Wulfwyn and the bear alternating looks of wide-eyed distate, as if she'd suggested picking the corpse up and dancing with it. Pelt --- is she actually going to skin the thing? Physically? With her hands? ] ... You could get a few good runes for it from the Tranquil, I imagine.
[ Which is her way of saying: I have no idea. She barely remembers what currency is, having no use for it as a pampered child and even less in the Circle. But the fur could trim several robes, which makes it useful to the ones doing the enchanting.
Cosette is not going to help skin it, though. Absolutely not. She'll fetch Alistair if she has to. ]