[An easy ascent for a practiced climber, which Scipio is. What Scipio is not is a practiced climber used to ice and chill. Nor would he usually be a practiced climber who does not complain. Their way up has been very long, and very cold. But Kaisa is lucky: today, Scipio is not complaining, because complaint would mean opening his mouth, and opening his mouth would invite the cold air down into his lungs, and drive out what little warmth is in him.
His feet at least are very warm, thanks to magic boots. This does a little to cheer him, as does the thought of Sabriel. And the thought of Rafael, who will maybe not be proud at Scipio's earnest Warden efforts but will, at least, like the tale of this boldness later. He will like it so well that he will probably not even mind the fact that Scipio borrowed his lockpick set without asking.]
It was fortune that had me bring along picks for the locks. [--He tells Kaisa, though the words are much muffled by scarves and cloaks and things. His gives her a smile that is mostly evident by the crinkle of his eyes. Already cheer is beginning to set back in, thawing the cold. Fingers a little clumsy in his gloves, tucked close to the wall, he draws his dagger instead and slips it in between the crack in the shutters.] But I think for so large a lock, a larger-- ah.
[The bar on the other side of the window clatters to the floor inside the tower. One of the shutters sags inward, too rotten to act as it should on its ancient hinges.
no subject
His feet at least are very warm, thanks to magic boots. This does a little to cheer him, as does the thought of Sabriel. And the thought of Rafael, who will maybe not be proud at Scipio's earnest Warden efforts but will, at least, like the tale of this boldness later. He will like it so well that he will probably not even mind the fact that Scipio borrowed his lockpick set without asking.]
It was fortune that had me bring along picks for the locks. [--He tells Kaisa, though the words are much muffled by scarves and cloaks and things. His gives her a smile that is mostly evident by the crinkle of his eyes. Already cheer is beginning to set back in, thawing the cold. Fingers a little clumsy in his gloves, tucked close to the wall, he draws his dagger instead and slips it in between the crack in the shutters.] But I think for so large a lock, a larger-- ah.
[The bar on the other side of the window clatters to the floor inside the tower. One of the shutters sags inward, too rotten to act as it should on its ancient hinges.
Scipio nods at it.]
After you!