[ Sometimes, when she's feeling out of sorts, Ciri has taken to using the Horizon as a place of meditation, almost; she brushes Kelpie, rides her through the mountains (even if the scenery is imagined, and the Horizon itself isn't all that large), remembers how the air feels in her lungs when it's startlingly cold and carrying the scent of evergreens and firewood smoke in the distance.
And lately, all the sorts she's been feeling have been on the out. Everything rankles her nerves. Strange visions fill her dreams. Portends of -- doom? death? nothing good. You'd think she was used to this shit, and in a way, she is, but she still can't shake the feeling festering inside her. Wrong, it whispers in the back of her head, and her skin crawls. It's gotten worse since the dream.
Perhaps she should have talked to someone, Geralt or Jaskier. She didn't. The gates and roads are still heavily patrolled, and she's only just come back from a long trip; she doesn't feel like a ride in the desert. Instead, she decides to attempt clearing her mind in the Horizon like she's done so many times before, in the familiar courtyard of Kaer Morhen, in the stables with Kelpie and Roach.
One moment she's stepping out to grab a brush (should've just manifested one, probably); the next, a thick stone wall appears before her, with a sudden, sickening feeling dropping in her stomach like she's just stepped off a cliff, except the walkway has only ever been flat.
Ciri spins around, adrenaline instantly up. On instinct, she attempts to grab her sword, expecting it to be there, appearing in the Horizon when she needs it as it always does with barely a thought.
It's not. She reaches over her shoulder, and what meets her grip is thick, scaly and cool beneath her fingers.
Ciri yelps, thoroughly bewildered, and instantly chucks the unexpected viper against the wall. ]
labyrinth; for dean.
And lately, all the sorts she's been feeling have been on the out. Everything rankles her nerves. Strange visions fill her dreams. Portends of -- doom? death? nothing good. You'd think she was used to this shit, and in a way, she is, but she still can't shake the feeling festering inside her. Wrong, it whispers in the back of her head, and her skin crawls. It's gotten worse since the dream.
Perhaps she should have talked to someone, Geralt or Jaskier. She didn't. The gates and roads are still heavily patrolled, and she's only just come back from a long trip; she doesn't feel like a ride in the desert. Instead, she decides to attempt clearing her mind in the Horizon like she's done so many times before, in the familiar courtyard of Kaer Morhen, in the stables with Kelpie and Roach.
One moment she's stepping out to grab a brush (should've just manifested one, probably); the next, a thick stone wall appears before her, with a sudden, sickening feeling dropping in her stomach like she's just stepped off a cliff, except the walkway has only ever been flat.
Ciri spins around, adrenaline instantly up. On instinct, she attempts to grab her sword, expecting it to be there, appearing in the Horizon when she needs it as it always does with barely a thought.
It's not. She reaches over her shoulder, and what meets her grip is thick, scaly and cool beneath her fingers.
Ciri yelps, thoroughly bewildered, and instantly chucks the unexpected viper against the wall. ]