At night, Ellie's nearly always awake, haunting the towers like a ghost. She's got a light step and keeps to the shadows, stays away from people for the most part. She's far from the only one who can't always sleep at a decent hour, and they all tend to drift apart.
Sometimes the current brings them together.
Ellie's in one of the tower windows, staring out on the crashing waves far below, nothing but stories of air between her and the surf -- and when she hears the scuffle of paws on the steps, she turns, and whistles softly under her breath.
Any excuse to get out of the Gallows is a good one right now, and Ellie's headed up the stairs to the towers, her head a million leagues away. Even if she doesn't have anything pressing to accomplish, she feels far too restless to stay, and Kirkwall doesn't seem as safe as it used to.
Instead, she turns a corner, and nearly runs full-on into Margaery.
With a gasp she reaches out to grip her elbow, to steady her.
"Oh fuck," she breathes, and then gasps something that could almost be a laugh.
It's breakfast in the Gallows, and though Glimmer's hair color has changed from the bright pink she originally knew to recognize her by, it's still a striking enough shade to pick out easily. Ellie comes from behind her, throws one leg over to straddle the bench next to her.
The second their eyes meet, Ellie gives her a smile that's fashioned to be innocent, but might very well contain trouble.
That light shade of auburn brown is hard to miss, it's true. Glimmer really misses the pink hair, though. A lot. It's hard not to, when you feel like a little piece of yourself got taken away. She looks up from her bowl of porridge as Ellie sits herself down. That expression from Ellie usually means she has an idea of some kind.
Glimmer just isn't sure what idea that is just yet.
"...Pretty bored," she answers between bites of porridge. "Why?"
Hightown isn't normally where Ellie hangs around; but Lowtown is out, and Ellie can't picture Abby strolling along the streets here, especially in her current state. Once she gets to the area however, she finds that in her roughspun cloak and openly worn bow, she sticks out among the nobility like a sore thumb.
Instead of heading back to the docks or someplace similar, she decides to poke around a bit, see what she can see... so long as the people here don't see her.
Something she's learned in her long years of getting from point A to point B without being bitten or attacked is that humans (and animals, and infected) rarely look up unless they're alerted first. So Ellie sticks to the rooftops and balconies.
Nate would be proud, she thinks, as she catches the edge of a brick façade and pulls herself up smoothly, saying a silent thanks to Derrica when the exertion doesn't hurt. He'd have loved to explore the shit out of this place.
She holds her breath across the balconies of a particularly fancy homestead, and holds her breath as she climbs down the ivy on the other side, alighting the the cobblestone of a side yard. Invisible, she turns a corner, checks that she's alone in the alleyway, and breathes.
Popping back into sight has her eyes glowing a bright blue before they fade back to normal.
The click-click of canine toenails on the stone doesn't draw nearer, but moves to pass the doorway. If Ellie is quick, she will bear witness to the sight of an unfamiliar dog stopping to check into the room before entering, his ears perked forward and an uncanny intelligence in his eyes.
She doesn't jump as much as she might've in her earlier weeks, but Margaery gives a startled gasp all the same - in the aftermath, her breathless laughter carries the same punch.
"Hello, Ellie." she greets with a touch more warmth than normal; after weeks of being on the roads without proper communication with many, it's difficult not to be so... open. She leans in for a proper hug, squeezing just for a moment before stepping back so she can get a good look. Fingertips briefly ghost over the curve of Ellie's cheek as she asks, "Have you been well?"
Ellie beams as if they've just planned a lunch date, tilting her head to one side and getting up from the table. As she does, she sweeps up her cloak, reaching to fasten it properly, adjusting her bow.
It's a different look from what Glimmer's used to with her; she's changed jeans and sneakers and Henleys for belted tunics and leggings, leather boots and gloves. Several more knives and a bow across her back.
She looks better than she did in the city. Like she's eating more, not so pale.
Ellie, unfortunately, knows to be wary of strange dogs. Even if she's never had a Mabari at her throat, the WLF and Rattlers had kept plenty of animals trained to track and attack strangers in their territory.
She stills as the canine comes into view, the smile dropping away from her expression as her eyes lock on his.
She gives the impression of a cornered cat; if she had fur she'd be puffed up, hackles raised, assessing him for possible threat.
It doesn't make much sense for her to feel threatened by anything inside the Gallows, but the feeling that slides down her spine when their eyes meet tells her this is more than a dog.
They shattered a few conventions early, these two; Ellie doesn't flinch when she leans in for a hug, and even returns it. Margaery's fingers find her cheek just a little warm, her smile breathless but genuine.
Slowly but surely she's getting used to touch again.
"Super," Ellie answers, with a wry smile, knowing Margaery knows better. "Middle of a war zone, plenty of Venatori ass to beat."
Even with that, her smile warms. She's genuinely glad to see her. "What about you? Any trouble?"
He hadn't though the room's scent all that familiar, and Mado sees now-- and smells-- by the change in the air and in Ellie's bearing, that he's made a mistake. In a quite un-canine-like fashion, he furtively backtracks out of the room, and what follows is an unseen but certainly heard process that is hard to describe on both fronts. Sort of a whooshing sound, maybe. But what follows it is a gentle little rap on the doorframe, followed by a sincere but hushed (people are sleeping), "apologies if I startled you, amica, I don't think always," from around the corner.
Glimmer scarfs down the last few bites of breakfast and rises to her feet to follow Ellie. Like the other young woman, she's adapted to the local clothing though perhaps with more ease. Cloaks, leggings, and tunics much the same. Sure, she could go for robes but she wants to wear something that gives her as much mobility as she needs. Getting tangled up in her robes at an inopportune time would just be embarrassing. A dagger on her belt, mostly because you need a tool when you're out there in the wild. Gloves. Sturdy boots.
She's still a bit softer in her build but the last few months of hard physical work and training and less opulent food have turned her a little more towards muscle and tone.
"I need to grab my staff," she says. "I'll met you at the gryphon stables?"
It's almost more startling to watch the dog's reaction, almost like an embarrassed human backing away from startling someone. It soothes Ellie's nerves the way few other things could, and she goes from defensive to curious, tilting her head to one side and sliding off the windowsill, following for a few steps.
It's not fast enough to catch a visual of whatever happens around the corner, but when he reaches the doorframe, she's there, wide-eyed.
This place has agreed with the both of them; there's so much to do, things to keep busy with. And in Glimmer's case there's no end of people she can actually help.
... and it's good, seeing her smiling again, excited to do something.
"I'll get Artichoke saddled," she promises, and reaches past her to sneak a bit of leftover bread off Glimmer's tray, a treat for him. "And pack a lunch. We can have a picnic or something if we don't make it back in time."
All the more excuse to stay out as long as they can.
"S'okay," Ellie answers, with a growing smile. Apparently with the possible threat gone, curiosity win out tenfold. Her eyes are bright, making her look her age, fading out the scars and sun damage and the way she holds herself like a hunter.
"Are you a werewolf? Were... dog? Is that a thing?"
Enthused by the topic, Mado crosses the threshold and gives a little bow. "Werewolves, I've heard of such folk, but they were the result of a curse placed on villagers by a Dalish Keeper. I'm only a mage, and though I suppose I may be cursed, it is not to be a man with a wolf's head."
It's not quite amused skepticism that makes up the entirety of Margaery's expression, but it's close. "I'm sure the Venatori have no idea who exactly they're going up against, until it's far too late."
Besides that, it's difficult not to allow her own smile to grow in the face of genuine warmth. "I've been useful, which is more than I could've hoped for. Derrica has been teaching me practical skills and methods for healing, and it turns out that my training to be lady of a household is handy when it comes to overseeing supply distributions for refugee groups."
She pauses as she takes note of the direction Ellie's going in - not so different from her own.
Ellie bites her lower lip to stave off the urge to laugh along with him. He's definitely one of a kind, and she can't help liking someone so positive about the world and his place in it.
He almost seems like a dog made human, with his enthusiasm.
"I'll bet," she says with a grin of her own, leaning against the doorjamb. "I've never heard of a mage who could turn into an animal before, though. That's awesome. How'd you figure it out?"
"See you there," Glimmer says with a bright grin. Her dishes are taken care of and she ducks into kitchens to snatch up some lunch--bread, smoked sausage, some dried fruit. Stuff that'll keep and give them energy and be easy to carry. She stuffs them into a satchel and then heads off up the stairs to grab her staff.
At the stables, she arrives a little out of breath (though constantly going up and down the stairs over the last couple months has gotten her very used to this by now) with her staff over her shoulder.
"I'm here," she calls out in an enthusiastic voice. With a spring in her step she heads towards where Ellie is preparing Artichoke, reaches out to give the gryphon a little stroke along the neck.
"Hey there boy, you're looking like someone's taking good care of you," she murmurs, glances up at Ellie with a cocky little smirk. "So where exactly are we headed?"
There is one small flaw in Ellie's exploration while invisible; the fancy homestead is not empty.
Loki is inside, reading, a different window open to the noises of the streets below, when he hears what his paranoid brain tells him is definitely someone crossing the balcony. Only problem is, he can see it from where he sits, and there's no one there. He stands in the otherwise empty room, more or less holding his own breath, and waits.
The quiet sound of footfalls continues onto the other side, and the ivy rustles with the task of supporting someone's weight. He can't hear the progression past this point, so he's careful to open one of the balcony windows very quietly to double-check that he hasn't begun to go mad.
He looks up. He looks around. He looks down to see a girl with eyes that blaze blue blink into existence and Loki freezes.
He doesn't know this girl but that particular color is not a common sight in one's eyes, especially the way they flare bright and then go out.
"What are you doing down there?" He calls out. There's still some distance between the two of them, but if she runs, he's giving chase.
All these months, first in New Amsterdam and then in Thedas, and she's managed to keep herself from being caught. Then again, most people she's snuck away from are laypeople; the only person who ever came close was Jason, and he was the sort of guy who kept warehouses full of blackmail.
So to be caught now, out of nowhere, is a nasty shock. So nasty that Ellie makes a mistake -- and looks straight up and into the face of the man who yelled after her.
She's young, probably late teens, maybe early twenties. Freckled and scarred and hair somewhere between auburn and brown, greenish normal eyes, once the glow fades.
"Fuck," she says emphatically, just loud enough for him to hear, and reaches up to yank her hood down over her hair. She bolts for the end of the alleyway, moving with the kind of speed that suggests she's run from things often, and usually gets away.
The end of it is another brick wall, but it's rough enough for handholds. Farther up there's more ivy, and she hits it with a running jump, pushes off, and catches herself, shimmying up towards another set of rooftops.
The streets below are far too open and well-lit for her to get away, but she stands a better chance of losing him up here.
"No, he's not a scruffy boy anymore, is he?" Ellie asks, her voice dropping to that super-affectionate purr used for babies as she finishes working Artichoke's bridle into place.
She rubs his neck as she flashes Glimmer a grin, slinging her arm around Artichoke's neck as she speaks. He tries to pick her pockets with his beak, and comes up with the scrap of bread. He gives a trill and horks it down.
"Heading east towards the mountain passes," she points out, gesturing. "There's a few places we're checking on, making sure the area's clear and passable. Lots of refugees still pouring in, and there's Hunters-"
Ellie pauses, corrects herself. "Bandits, hanging around like vultures."
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