lifeisacatch: (Old!Flemeth)
Flemeth, the witch of the wilds (or 'hey you') ([personal profile] lifeisacatch) wrote2015-12-09 08:04 pm

You thought you caught my sleight of hand

The ground is snow-covered and the sky is overcast, but the old woman down by the lake shore appears ignorant of this fact. Or maybe she notices but just doesn't care. She is wearing neither cloak nor hat nor scarf, though her dirt-stained brown and cream robes are at least layered.

Heavily layered.

She may be humming tunelessly, keeping pace with a percussive beat only she can hear.

For now.
freedom_is_grey: (Brightly burning)

[personal profile] freedom_is_grey 2015-12-10 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
Right.

At least Liranan has stopped growling, though at Flemeth's last words he makes a whimper deep in the back of his throat, instead.

Ysalwen hushes him, voice gentle even as she scratches firmly between his ears.

"I hope to. I do try to keep my eyes open. And my mind."

Her mouth twists wryly.

"I have you to thank for that."

Without Flemeth's aid she and Alistair would have died -- and not only that, but she would never have met all the strange people she now counts as friends. It changed a great deal.

"Would you trust me not to poison your drink if I bought you one, perhaps? Call it a case of bygones, at least here?"

It seems presumptuous to suppose it might continue back in Thedas. But --

The offer is honestly meant.
freedom_is_grey: (courtly profile)

[personal profile] freedom_is_grey 2015-12-10 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Of course. Flemeth."

Ysalwen turns her back on the Witch of the Wilds, bold as brass.

But Liranan, of course, will bring up the rear.

Just so Flemeth does not get any ideas.