Snippet #1489962

Talae debated with herself for a while, trying to decide if jogging really counted as strenuous activity, and concluded that it probably did, at least were it conducted for any length of time. Well, damn. That didn't leave her with a whole lot of options on what to do with herself for the rest of the day. She decided that the wisest course was probably to simply head back to her tent, perhaps try some of that meditation business someone had told her about- was it Kisikoni? She couldn't remember.

Perhaps at some point, Fae would show up and she could probably talk with her sister for a while before turning in. That was, in fact, exactly what she wound up doing, and though she was a bit sore the next morning, she was up well before she had to be and it wasn't really anything that would impede her marching... or her lining up for yet another slightly-nauseating round of magical transport. Lovely.

It looked they were going through first, which made sense now that they were the Black Guard and everything. The weight of her sword on her back did not yet feel familiar, but it was something of a comfort at any rate. She was sure that not too long from now, she probably wouldn't be able to feel it there at all. Whether this was a comforting thought or a chilling one was something she had yet to consider.

Taking a deep breath, Talae filed through the portal-

-and landed lightly on the other side, scanning her surroundings. Mountainous, but in a valley area perhaps. The air smelled... fresh. Much more so than camp, but then that wasn't really surprising, considering that this area had probably not hosted so many people in close proximity for so long. The fact that she found it so pleasant bothered her. It was as though the world belonged this way, and she wasn't having that. This was dragon territory, and that meant that nothing about it was as it should be. Not until every last one of them was dead.

---

Alistair was beginning to suspect he was someone's pet bird, what with all the patting, but the mild-mannered harpy let it slide, more amused than anything, and nodded serenely. "Of course, Captain. I would very much appreciate it." With that, she was off, and he left too, rather wishing the sky were a little clearer, that he might go flying. While such pursuits were not impossible in the rain per se, they were far from comfortable or enjoyable, especially when compared to the unbridled joy that was flight on a sunny day.

Sometimes, he felt sorry for the races that would never know the sensation of flight, but of course everything had adapted in its own way, and he was equally unsuited to a life underground, which he was given to believe that others very much enjoyed, so there it was. Simple as that. The contemplative white-winged man made his way to eat, and then to, oddly enough perhaps, write. He was not keeping a journal or writing his memoirs, exactly, and he certainly did not think anyone would ever pore over his musings for any length of time, but on occasion his thoughts did tend to run away from him, and even more rarely, he thought that perhaps he had manged to stumble across something important, at least enough to to bear the considerable difficulty his talons found in trying to keep the right kind of purchase on a writing implement.

The next morning, he found himself standing beside the Nightmarian woman, Neira. From what little he had gathered of her, her tongue was rather acidic, but he had grown up surrounded by aggressive female harpies, so it was not as though he were unused to such things. Even so, she did not seem the sort for idle speaking, and he respected this by maintaining his own silence, though if given the opportunity, there were several things he might have asked. Why she was in the Legion in the first place, for one.

Lilliana was at his other side, and he offered her a smile. "Did you enjoy the tea?" He asked, referring not to the cup they and Kisikoni had shared this first evening in camp, but the extra packet he had sent her off with afterwards. It was also elven, but of a lighter taste overall, much more for light repast or morning consumption. It was his turn to step into the portal before he heard her response, though, and his first thought was that this area was much drier than the one they had just left, which was something that Alistair relished in. He stretched his wings unconsciously, though not enough to hit anyone by accident. That would be a highly-mortifying experience indeed.