Through A Glass, Darkly (mature)

[Philomel]

Closed to Amari. The start runs alongside Of Wolf and Man

The Day Before - Rated Mature

The snowflakes on the window pane did not help.

As she wiped them softly aside with a mittened hand her eyes peered. Straining, they had been searching for some aching minutes now, trying to find the correct window. Goat legs carrying her over the roofs and balconies of the Salvarian city, she had been looking as soundless as her mode of transport could provide. Naturally there were times of thudding. Else, there were times of cries, when the snow slipped from under her hoof and cascaded down the slope towards the ground. With strong arms she would catch herself, grabbing whatever tile was closest at hand, and as her heart thumped wildly at the close call she would question herself again and again - did this really matter?

Yes, she decided. Yes it did. If Shinsou really was this keen on Amari Ciel L'Olfsden Philomel needed to know. It was part of her right as close friend, and potential lover.

Once more, Philomel found the wrong window. Yes, she knew the name of the tavern that Amari was staying in (namely, the Silver Cup) but the place was huge. As she pushed the everlasting falling snow aside and looked, she found yet another sleeping form. Hanging as she was from the upper half of the frame, hooves braced against the bottom, she looked like a stalker which was not far from the truth. Because being once an assassin and now leader of an international cohort of piratical and whoring women, Philomel dealt in secrecy and stealth. She had to be the master of agility - her lifestyle had taught her that. It was only a matter of angles and arrogant snow drifts that were her deadly enemy here.

With a sigh the Matriarch of the Gilded Lily began to move, considering about giving up. Looking upwards to where the edge of the roof was just a few inches away she kicked off from the window ledge, then threw her body up. Pulling with her arms she spun in the air, and landed in an awkward but effective position, a clatter of cement and terracotta beneath her. Pausing, she crouched there, grinding down her back teeth and wondering (yet again) if she should just give up.

It was then that a silent predator ran over to her.

He was a brilliant flash of russet red and sparkling white. Golden eyes and a grinning jaw he was running to her, his paws barely making any sound on the half-covered roof.

Philomel, he cried as he purposefully collided with her hip. Paws up on her chest he wriggled his long brush tail and chittered very quietly in an expressive manner. Beloved! I have found them.