'Destiny' is a thing that follows Marie-Sixtine around like she owes it money (or blood); she's not surprised, any more, when she turns a corner and ends up somewhere she didn't quite mean to be, or when a series of events like closed streets or shops send her down unfamiliar corridors. When the old woman tells her that a river fae has been taken, she knows, instinctively, who that must be. It isn't that there aren't others in the city, but these things tend to follow in-cohort.
She doesn't want to kill the stag.
She doesn't want to kill anything, but especially not an animal, something big and -- not helpless, but blithe. A stag does what a stag does and nothing more.
But she's going to find it. Maybe she'll be able to pull the trigger (take the knife) when she gets there, maybe not, she feels anxious and unsure because her gut always says one thing and her head tells her another, but still, she stands on the street outside the tower, shoes scuffing the cobblestone, arms wrapped around herself, and feels the chill that always accompanies powerful magic.
"Sobek Croix," she says, half-to herself, "to start."
no subject
She doesn't want to kill the stag.
She doesn't want to kill anything, but especially not an animal, something big and -- not helpless, but blithe. A stag does what a stag does and nothing more.
But she's going to find it. Maybe she'll be able to pull the trigger (take the knife) when she gets there, maybe not, she feels anxious and unsure because her gut always says one thing and her head tells her another, but still, she stands on the street outside the tower, shoes scuffing the cobblestone, arms wrapped around herself, and feels the chill that always accompanies powerful magic.
"Sobek Croix," she says, half-to herself, "to start."