[the barren, red wasteland of her domain is no more. it has shifted, turned green, vibrant yet monotonous in all the earthen tones. the entrance to her horizon will lead to a labyrinthine pathway of trees and grown vegetation; the sound of animals moving and scampering about in the foliage can be heard, but they are never actually seen.
except for a black bird—a raven—that perches on a nearby tree branch, observing whoever has walked in. after a while of aimless ambling about, it will start to lead the way—hopping from branch to branch, finding purchase on nearby stone structures, soaring down the path and waiting, until a bridge is reached. there and onward, the raven will tread its own path.
up the stairs, trees will open up to reveal a home, worn and weathered, but lived in. wanda will be at the porch, sitting down with a cup of tea, enjoying the chilly weather found up here above the forest. there's a kettle and an extra cup, as if she had been expecting visit.]
Tea?
[—she asks, because no one that is unwelcome here would have been guided properly by the raven to reach her home within her domain.]
[Horizon has become a point of fascination for Petra during her time here— her own domain has been transformed into an echo of her home back in Brigid, and she has found herself quite curious to see what other domains have taken shape here, beyond those of her friends from home.
She knows not where she has found herself when the raven begins to lead the way, but as it seems to move with intent, she cannot help but follow, taking in the scenery as she goes. The place itself is quite beautiful; different from the forests of Brigid in many ways, but still familiar, comforting.
When she comes to the home at the heart of it all, she finds a familiar face seated on the porch, and she gives a startled but genuine smile in response.]
I was not meaning to intrude— but it looks like you have been waiting for someone.
[wanda offers a tired smile in return when petra appears at the doorway of her porch, after the climb up the stairs. she had known she was coming, way before the raven that led her here; in fact, it perches on the table, and wanda sits up to offer it a slice of apple, conjured into her hand. happily, the raven takes it and steps onto the railing to eat it at its leisure.
in the same motion wanda scoots to the side of the bench, offering the spot to petra should she want it.]
No, no. You're not intruding. [as way of explanation for her waiting for someone.] I saw you walking in the forest when you first stepped in. I figured you might enjoy some tea with me.
[because petra's company she likes, familiarity in lived experiences, in shared friendships, the like.]
[It seems a silly question, the moment she utters it. Wanda could do all sorts of things with her magic; she was hardly limited to conjuring dresses. Her smile hitches wider, and she inclines her head towards the offered spot on the bench before sinking down onto it.]
I would be feeling honored to do so. Your home here... it is beautiful. The forest always feels most like home to me, too.
[the question she does not answer, getting the impression that petra might understand that her magic works in ways that extend past whatever stretches the imagination. instead, wanda reaches for the second cup of tea, setting it before petra when she does take a seat.]
I had mountains before. [she explains,] A forest on the side and a lake overlooking it all. [with a shake of her head, she knows that what is here now makes it impossible to distinguish what was before from what is now.] The forest grew because I wanted my magic to do something good.
[fill that space with nurturing and flowers and creatures. wanda leans a little against the arm of the bench.]
What is your home like?
feel free to ignore this if it's too old, life has been insane
[She notes that Wanda chooses not to answer her, but the mystery of it makes it all the more impressive, really. Whatever is happening here is nothing like the magic that Petra herself is familiar with, but in the past month or so, she has learned that magic is capable of things well beyond her imagining.
The information Wanda does offer inspires warmth, regardless, and Petra gives a single nod of approval.]
Something good... it is certainly that.
[Her smile pulls slightly to one side, fading just enough to be a touch bittersweet.]
My home, Brigid, is beautiful, too. We are an island nation, blessed by the spirits of the land, living off the bounty that is being offered to us by the forests and seas. I have not been back in some time— not for more than a visit, and it was not being much of one.
[ She's never been one to follow directions given to her just like that, and turns out this domain isn't any different. Claire's not quite sure how she even ended up here, what path she took to stumble into all of this. She's here now, though, and she hates it
But does she, though?
Claire's not exactly the type for hiking, for wandering aimlessly. And yet she finds herself torn - halfway lost to frustration and anger at the winding paths, halfway feeling like she can breathe in ways she can't at Mag's - or at the Roadhouse. There's a sense of solitude here she doesn't have outside.
And perhaps the thick forest reminds her of the Bad Place. Perhaps it brings back the phantom sensation of Kaia's hand in hers. Perhaps there's a part of Claire that's drawn to that kind of bittersweet pain. So when the raven seems intent to lead her somewhere... Claire shrugs a shoulder. Mutters: ]
Screw you, Nevermore.
[ And turns the opposite way. Takes a shaky breath and proceeds to get lost on purpose, in the forest as much as the shambles of her heart. ]
[being told off has the raven squawk in obvious annoyance, flying off and away—probably to complain to the owner of the domain how he's been insulted. other ravens follow claire from a distance, and wanda is quite aware of her presence, even before nevermore comes looking for her.
drinking from her cup of tea, she sees all that takes place below in the forest, but the blond girl wandering about aimlessly gives her pause; enough for wanda to interrupt her tea time, wrap herself up in a coat and slip her feet into boots, and descend the stairs down towards the forest—a forest she hasn't exactly explored herself. nevermore (it is his name now) perches from branch to branch, as if guiding her way, as if wanting to witness the scolding the scarlet witch will give to this petulant child that dares not follow his guidance.
that, however, is hardly wanda's intent.
past the bridge, up broken stairs of stone, and carefully stepping between protruding roots, it comes to wanda's realization that she has not really wandered this significantly into her forest, many of these grown plants and flowers new to her, the babbling brook that falls down to the side entirely out of her awareness.
nevermore offers another cry, further up, and wanda sees it, the blond girl, crossing said brook.]
What do you think you'll find over there?
[—but her voice is calm, kind, genuinely curious, as wanda follows along, stopping at a prudent distance as to not startle her, for wanda feels something bruised and pained in the young girl's heart.]
The forest's grown so much on its own, I don't really know what is past the main path.
[ Claire stills for a moment, glances towards the woman whose domain she's wandered into. Bright blue eyes briefly flickering up and down her form, as if assessing a threat out of pure habit. Defensiveness in the ways her chin juts up and out, in the ways her shoulders curl inwards all the same. Making herself small in the same breath as she tries to make herself look challenging. ]
I don't know.
[ Elsewhere, she'd never admit that. Would play off her wanderings as having a specific purpose. But in this strange place, that feels too transparently like a lie.
And Claire's just a human, except in the ways she's not. Perhaps someone like the Scarlet Witch can feel that, even if Claire's unaware. The way something sings in her blood, makes it human but not quite, but perhaps a little more, but strange either way. Just some 20 something year old in all the ways that should matter, except in all the ways in which something in her is different - a potential vessel for an angel by bloodline, and the first and only human in her world whose blood was not just tainted by lycanthropy in the past, but survived being cured of it. There's something about Claire that's not quite just human in the ways she should be. But it's also faint, like a mote of potential more so than something actively different about her. ]
[there's something here, wanda notes. first, it's in the way that the blond looks at her—how she seems to assess wanda, an attempt to define what her intentions are. secondly, there's something not quite... right about her. something that spells the supernatural, something wicked, maybe even cursed.
it's difficult to pinpoint without much reference, and as much as she would want to glance into the vestiges of this young woman's mind and search for answers—out of curiosity, really—there is restraint that wanda holds fast to.
perhaps, too, wanda finds relating to this feeling, at least. something unknown and dangerous, with all the potential in the world for greatness or ruin.]
I doubt there's a point.
[—the intricacies of nature move as they wish, unfurling and provoking change. wanda, for her part, allowed the forest to just be its own thing, along with the criters that roam it, from the trail of ants carrying leaves between rocks and soil, to the deer amidst the bushes, to the more unusual tall white trees with marked eyes, glancing about, vigilant.
she does point upward, at the raven sitting above them on a branch.]
You've named him. [it was hardly a baptism.] Nevermore.
[nevermore croaks, unamused. there's a hint of a smile on wanda, as she proceeds forward, following the path claire had been forging for herself, deep into the forest.]
He was just trying to guide you out of the forest. [hands in her pockets, she walks past the girl, steps on a stone in the middle of the brook, hopping over to the other side.] My name's Wanda. You're not from Solvunn, are you?
[ No last name either. Claire sticks to that here - not so much because she thinks anyone would know her, but because she doesn't want that getting back to Dean. He doesn't remember her, because he only met her briefly years ago, and whatever wibbly wobbly shit this place pulls on people, Dean hasn't reached the point again where he meets her as a young woman and becomes a dear friend. It's the weirdest sense of loss, to have lost someone who's around you all the time, too. ]
It was a joke. You telling me if I say 'Hey Pringles' to that one over there, it'll stick?
[ She doesn't mean anything by it, really. But color her intrigued. And Claire trails along with Wanda. Keeping some distance between them, but moving with her all the same. ]
Yeah, see, I find random creatures trying to show me the way a bit sus. Seems to lead to rabbit holes or all kinds of other ominous shit.
[—and wanda's own considerations to balance out their attitude.
as they find another more subtle path to walk in, covered in moss and gravel and showing obvious signs of being not traveled quite at all (by whom?), the word of trees around them tightens a bit, but not in an overwhelming, obfuscating way. the golden rays of the sun still glimmer through the branches, and wanda reaches a stop when they reach a rock wall, covered in vines.
hm. a dead end?]
You can always blink out of the Horizon if you feel like you're in danger. [that's the beauty of this place. she turns to claire.] Do you feel that you are?
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—HORIZON [ OTA ]
except for a black bird—a raven—that perches on a nearby tree branch, observing whoever has walked in. after a while of aimless ambling about, it will start to lead the way—hopping from branch to branch, finding purchase on nearby stone structures, soaring down the path and waiting, until a bridge is reached. there and onward, the raven will tread its own path.
up the stairs, trees will open up to reveal a home, worn and weathered, but lived in. wanda will be at the porch, sitting down with a cup of tea, enjoying the chilly weather found up here above the forest. there's a kettle and an extra cup, as if she had been expecting visit.]
Tea?
[—she asks, because no one that is unwelcome here would have been guided properly by the raven to reach her home within her domain.]
no subject
She knows not where she has found herself when the raven begins to lead the way, but as it seems to move with intent, she cannot help but follow, taking in the scenery as she goes. The place itself is quite beautiful; different from the forests of Brigid in many ways, but still familiar, comforting.
When she comes to the home at the heart of it all, she finds a familiar face seated on the porch, and she gives a startled but genuine smile in response.]
I was not meaning to intrude— but it looks like you have been waiting for someone.
no subject
in the same motion wanda scoots to the side of the bench, offering the spot to petra should she want it.]
No, no. You're not intruding. [as way of explanation for her waiting for someone.] I saw you walking in the forest when you first stepped in. I figured you might enjoy some tea with me.
[because petra's company she likes, familiarity in lived experiences, in shared friendships, the like.]
no subject
[It seems a silly question, the moment she utters it. Wanda could do all sorts of things with her magic; she was hardly limited to conjuring dresses. Her smile hitches wider, and she inclines her head towards the offered spot on the bench before sinking down onto it.]
I would be feeling honored to do so. Your home here... it is beautiful. The forest always feels most like home to me, too.
no subject
I had mountains before. [she explains,] A forest on the side and a lake overlooking it all. [with a shake of her head, she knows that what is here now makes it impossible to distinguish what was before from what is now.] The forest grew because I wanted my magic to do something good.
[fill that space with nurturing and flowers and creatures. wanda leans a little against the arm of the bench.]
What is your home like?
feel free to ignore this if it's too old, life has been insane
The information Wanda does offer inspires warmth, regardless, and Petra gives a single nod of approval.]
Something good... it is certainly that.
[Her smile pulls slightly to one side, fading just enough to be a touch bittersweet.]
My home, Brigid, is beautiful, too. We are an island nation, blessed by the spirits of the land, living off the bounty that is being offered to us by the forests and seas. I have not been back in some time— not for more than a visit, and it was not being much of one.
Forest
But does she, though?
Claire's not exactly the type for hiking, for wandering aimlessly. And yet she finds herself torn - halfway lost to frustration and anger at the winding paths, halfway feeling like she can breathe in ways she can't at Mag's - or at the Roadhouse. There's a sense of solitude here she doesn't have outside.
And perhaps the thick forest reminds her of the Bad Place. Perhaps it brings back the phantom sensation of Kaia's hand in hers. Perhaps there's a part of Claire that's drawn to that kind of bittersweet pain. So when the raven seems intent to lead her somewhere... Claire shrugs a shoulder. Mutters: ]
Screw you, Nevermore.
[ And turns the opposite way. Takes a shaky breath and proceeds to get lost on purpose, in the forest as much as the shambles of her heart. ]
no subject
drinking from her cup of tea, she sees all that takes place below in the forest, but the blond girl wandering about aimlessly gives her pause; enough for wanda to interrupt her tea time, wrap herself up in a coat and slip her feet into boots, and descend the stairs down towards the forest—a forest she hasn't exactly explored herself. nevermore (it is his name now) perches from branch to branch, as if guiding her way, as if wanting to witness the scolding the scarlet witch will give to this petulant child that dares not follow his guidance.
that, however, is hardly wanda's intent.
past the bridge, up broken stairs of stone, and carefully stepping between protruding roots, it comes to wanda's realization that she has not really wandered this significantly into her forest, many of these grown plants and flowers new to her, the babbling brook that falls down to the side entirely out of her awareness.
nevermore offers another cry, further up, and wanda sees it, the blond girl, crossing said brook.]
What do you think you'll find over there?
[—but her voice is calm, kind, genuinely curious, as wanda follows along, stopping at a prudent distance as to not startle her, for wanda feels something bruised and pained in the young girl's heart.]
The forest's grown so much on its own, I don't really know what is past the main path.
no subject
I don't know.
[ Elsewhere, she'd never admit that. Would play off her wanderings as having a specific purpose. But in this strange place, that feels too transparently like a lie.
And Claire's just a human, except in the ways she's not. Perhaps someone like the Scarlet Witch can feel that, even if Claire's unaware. The way something sings in her blood, makes it human but not quite, but perhaps a little more, but strange either way. Just some 20 something year old in all the ways that should matter, except in all the ways in which something in her is different - a potential vessel for an angel by bloodline, and the first and only human in her world whose blood was not just tainted by lycanthropy in the past, but survived being cured of it. There's something about Claire that's not quite just human in the ways she should be. But it's also faint, like a mote of potential more so than something actively different about her. ]
Isn't that the point?
no subject
it's difficult to pinpoint without much reference, and as much as she would want to glance into the vestiges of this young woman's mind and search for answers—out of curiosity, really—there is restraint that wanda holds fast to.
perhaps, too, wanda finds relating to this feeling, at least. something unknown and dangerous, with all the potential in the world for greatness or ruin.]
I doubt there's a point.
[—the intricacies of nature move as they wish, unfurling and provoking change. wanda, for her part, allowed the forest to just be its own thing, along with the criters that roam it, from the trail of ants carrying leaves between rocks and soil, to the deer amidst the bushes, to the more unusual tall white trees with marked eyes, glancing about, vigilant.
she does point upward, at the raven sitting above them on a branch.]
You've named him. [it was hardly a baptism.] Nevermore.
[nevermore croaks, unamused. there's a hint of a smile on wanda, as she proceeds forward, following the path claire had been forging for herself, deep into the forest.]
He was just trying to guide you out of the forest. [hands in her pockets, she walks past the girl, steps on a stone in the middle of the brook, hopping over to the other side.] My name's Wanda. You're not from Solvunn, are you?
no subject
[ No last name either. Claire sticks to that here - not so much because she thinks anyone would know her, but because she doesn't want that getting back to Dean. He doesn't remember her, because he only met her briefly years ago, and whatever wibbly wobbly shit this place pulls on people, Dean hasn't reached the point again where he meets her as a young woman and becomes a dear friend. It's the weirdest sense of loss, to have lost someone who's around you all the time, too. ]
It was a joke. You telling me if I say 'Hey Pringles' to that one over there, it'll stick?
[ She doesn't mean anything by it, really. But color her intrigued. And Claire trails along with Wanda. Keeping some distance between them, but moving with her all the same. ]
Yeah, see, I find random creatures trying to show me the way a bit sus. Seems to lead to rabbit holes or all kinds of other ominous shit.
no subject
They got a sense of pride.
[—and wanda's own considerations to balance out their attitude.
as they find another more subtle path to walk in, covered in moss and gravel and showing obvious signs of being not traveled quite at all (by whom?), the word of trees around them tightens a bit, but not in an overwhelming, obfuscating way. the golden rays of the sun still glimmer through the branches, and wanda reaches a stop when they reach a rock wall, covered in vines.
hm. a dead end?]
You can always blink out of the Horizon if you feel like you're in danger. [that's the beauty of this place. she turns to claire.] Do you feel that you are?