Quote:
Originally Posted by Moon_Called
The Crag
Ah. Perhaps not a child, then. Mercutio chuckles to himself in pleasant surprise as he makes his way around the fire. Before sitting down on the indicated log, he lifts the bottom of his coat out of the way so it hangs down on the far side. "You'll have to forgive me," he says, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, "but it's rare I meet a member of the mortal races who may be older than I am." Mercutio is quite young, but only for a devil. There may be a few ancient elves kicking around older than he is, but they're not long for this world.
For a few moments Mercutio seems content to simply study the witch. He doesn't bother hiding his curiosity as he cups his chin in one hand as he peers at her through the smoke. Perhaps, he ponders, the witch was not a member of the mortal races at all, or perhaps she had transcended mortality and gained some sort of eternal youth. If that was the case he would surely feel quite the fool for guessing her age wrong twice, but such was the path of enlightenment.
"Have you a name?" he asks, finally breaking his contemplative silence.
|
"You're forgiven," says the witch, her pose and posture never changing. Her eyes remain locked on Mercutio in turn, and as he asks his question, her
favorite question, a smile spreads her dry, blue lips.
"I have many. For this, for you, Caesa will serve." Caesa's voice is as cool as ever, seemingly at peace with everyone and everything. Mercutio may have noticed by now that the crows fall silent only when she speaks.
"What is your name?" She asks finally, eyes gleaming with delight. The crows pause, cocking their heads in confusion and then recognition, before squawking in such a way that it sounds like laughter. After all, she must be joking - only fools give their names to a witch.