cabeswater revisited [for eliot]
Sep. 30th, 2019 08:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
formicine [backdated to closely post their meeting]
There's a short walk into the woods before Cabeswater springs out of general Darrow countryside trees. It's not something that demarcates itself, but gradually and then suddenly, the trees are all tall and ancient, ashes and oaks. The soil is rockier, little ditches off the main path lined with stone, kindred more to Virginia foothills than more northerly, glacier-carved areas.
Shadows flicker here, creatures that shouldn't be and won't be seen. Even in autumn, it's comfortable, the trees forever dappled with just a little yellow but nothing more, sunlight streaming in.
And it whispers, a little. Blue tips her head up, feeling the power rise up out of the land and into the trees. She wasn't always able to feel it, but she's older now. She knows, too, who she is and what trees mean to her. Hello, she says in her head to it. The wind flutters through the leaves.
Once again, a tall young man and a very short young woman walk into a sentient forest.
"The trees speak Latin," she says calmly, warning or trivia. "They might not talk to you. But they know we're here."
There's a short walk into the woods before Cabeswater springs out of general Darrow countryside trees. It's not something that demarcates itself, but gradually and then suddenly, the trees are all tall and ancient, ashes and oaks. The soil is rockier, little ditches off the main path lined with stone, kindred more to Virginia foothills than more northerly, glacier-carved areas.
Shadows flicker here, creatures that shouldn't be and won't be seen. Even in autumn, it's comfortable, the trees forever dappled with just a little yellow but nothing more, sunlight streaming in.
And it whispers, a little. Blue tips her head up, feeling the power rise up out of the land and into the trees. She wasn't always able to feel it, but she's older now. She knows, too, who she is and what trees mean to her. Hello, she says in her head to it. The wind flutters through the leaves.
Once again, a tall young man and a very short young woman walk into a sentient forest.
"The trees speak Latin," she says calmly, warning or trivia. "They might not talk to you. But they know we're here."
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Date: 2019-10-02 02:03 pm (UTC)“Fascinating,” he says to Blue, wondering why Latin, of all things. “I don’t really know much beside curse tablets and Pompeiian graffiti, but ah...” It’s only polite to greet them. There were magical forests in Fillory of course, always slightly unnerving places where magic tended to run a bit wild and you could never really be sure of your safety. He always felt reasonably all right there, being High King perhaps gave him better odds than a random farmer chasing a lost sheep into the trees, but...not here.
Eliot gives a low bow. Maybe too dramatic, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. “Magnam silvam, salvete,” he says, feeling only a little ridiculous. He’d brought a few supplies and notes with him, but he’s not foolish enough to attempt anything flammable here. This is place is too powerful to be out of its good graces.
“After you, Miss Blue?” He asks once he straightens up. This forest might not operate on the same rules as the Queenswood, but it’s only polite. Also she’s the one who knows where she’s going.
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