[open] braved and beat them on my own

[doneisdone]

WHO: Teren and you
WHAT: guess who's back. back again
WHEN: post-attack on the Gallows
WHERE: Kirkwall/The Gallows
NOTES: possible discussion of death/grieving, it's a bad time out here

I. The Ferry

In order to return to the Gallows, one must first cross the water to get there. A tall, gloomy woman stands stock still by the ferry's railing, in one hand holding the lead rope of a wiry, docile black gelding, with a rucksack slung over the opposite shoulder. She doesn't go out of her way to make conversation, but doesn't completely reject it either, especially if the source is a familiar face.

II. The Gallows

a. With little to be done in the way of settling in-- it's not like there's a chamber to claim-- Teren has pitched a tent in the vicinity of several others, out of the way of most of the recovery work but near enough that she can do some assisting. Riddle, the gelding, is tied off nearby, munching at a feed bag or simply watching the area, content to remain nearby until it's time he's brought to the stables.
People will find themselves assisted whether they asked for it or not: moving debris, extricating pieces of things (and people) from the rubble, building pyres. Making coffee. Stitching torn clothing on the living. It's done without comment by the hard-faced woman, who seems to have arrived just in time to be as helpful as she is unremarkable.

b. At some idle point in the day, someone may spot her visiting Blanche, offering a dead fish and proceeding to, quite uncharacteristically, put her thin arms around the griffon's neck in what looks suspiciously like an embrace. She stays like that for a while, moving only when Blanche begins to fidget.

III. Wildcard

[happy to make bespoke starters, just hit me upppp]

Comments

[doneisdone]

He receives a level, uncomprehending stare in return.

"What," Teren asks, not gently.

[allthatgleamsisgold]

"The centaur," he repeats, inclining his head to the horse. "Is it ill? Deformed...? Why does it look like that?"

https://imgb.ifunny.co/images/8cfa0f17321cd22c905c2248fa158ad83922669f5feaaf5cf6620857db732f43_1.jpg

[doneisdone]

This has to be a prank, and she's not here for it.

"What the fuck are you on about," Teren snaps, "he's fine."

look this is the first time he's seen the mythical *horse*

[allthatgleamsisgold]

"Fine? It's missing it's arms," he insists. "And it's head is wrong."

I'm so sorry

[doneisdone]

Whatever is going on here, Teren's had enough of it. A blade flips out from her sleeve, held warningly with its point to the strange kossith's throat.

"Whatever affliction troubles your mind," she hisses, "is not my concern. Take it elsewhere." In other words, stop insulting her good horsey.

[allthatgleamsisgold]

Vlast eyes the dagger, unimpressed, upper lip curled into a sneer. He's been stabbed before by bigger and nastier blades.

"I have no affliction other than what this bizarre world has wrought of me. If you've no answer for my question, then simply say."

[doneisdone]

"Fuck off," Teren clarifies, helpful as ever; it wasn't her who started this insane exchange, but she doesn't mind finishing it.