[This place is as strange and alien to her as anywhere else in their new world. The loamy scent of the autumnal woods is fresh and new, not entirely unpleasant. The jutting, organic shapes of the trees put her in mind, quietly, of skeletons, and she is perhaps one of a very few people who finds this likeness comforting. As for the rest-- it might have been unsettling, if she didn't know what this place was. That the scenes and landscapes stretched out within the Horizon are all of other people's making, that she can leave whenever she needs to. She won't get lost in here and consumed by the dark and twisting forest, a place for which she has no name. Plant life was barely a thing, back on the Ninth, unless one counts the bleached and anaemic stems of snow leaks.
She should amend the thoughts she uses to allay her concerns as 'not too lost'; the paths here twist, and they turn, she isn't at all sure where she's headed. Not until the scent of something cooking, something good, reaches out to some instinctual part of her and draws her in close, gives her a solid direction to travel in at last.
When she emerges inside Alucard's kitchen, she's dressed from head to toe in form-fitting warrior's blacks, scuffed combat boots tread surprisingly light against the floor, and a pair of dark glasses occluding her eyes from view. Across her back is strapped a gleaming two-hander, six feet of cold, hard, Ninth House steel. She steps boldly into his space like some shadowy harbinger of doom, and says--]
no subject
She should amend the thoughts she uses to allay her concerns as 'not too lost'; the paths here twist, and they turn, she isn't at all sure where she's headed. Not until the scent of something cooking, something good, reaches out to some instinctual part of her and draws her in close, gives her a solid direction to travel in at last.
When she emerges inside Alucard's kitchen, she's dressed from head to toe in form-fitting warrior's blacks, scuffed combat boots tread surprisingly light against the floor, and a pair of dark glasses occluding her eyes from view. Across her back is strapped a gleaming two-hander, six feet of cold, hard, Ninth House steel. She steps boldly into his space like some shadowy harbinger of doom, and says--]
Oh, hey Al! What's cooking?