02-18-2026, 11:34 AM
batten down, baby, its a hell of a storm
She doesn't remember any of the faces from the Mountain. She knew there were others there, of course. Even in the midst of the chaos and magic she could hear their thoughts, though they were wordless and panicked. But beyond that, they were none of her concern. Selfish, maybe, but manners and decorum mean little when ones life is on the line.
She doesn't remember them, but she knows she isn't the only one.
The Meadow is eerily quiet today, a fact she finds peace in. It is an odd thing for her, searching for a spot in the stillness. As a young girl she had made every effort to escape it. Coming from a family of telepaths meant lots of quiet, wordless interactions. But that was all before the mountain. She was a telepath no more, and her thoughts could be hers and hers alone.
His approach breaks the solitude, though he arrives without fanfare. A quick glance over his body stirs something in her that that could be remembrance, though she isn't quite sure until she sees his brand. Where hers was beautiful despite its meaning, his was harsher. Her reptilian eyes begin to glow as she called the wind to her, though she did not release it just yet.
Too much had happened up there for her to be anything but cautious.
But when he speaks of her brand, he speaks softly, despite his voice carrying the same weight as hers. She visibly relaxes, the glow leaving her eyes. "Me too." she answers with a slight nod. "We made it though. We lived. I'm Wayfair." she offers, as if her name is an afterthought.
Maybe it is. Maybe she just needs to introduce herself as survivor from now on.
Wayfair
@Harrowed