10-18-2020, 08:55 PM
A joyous fluttering against her senses drew Zhenya’s attention like warm Spring sunshine to the woman who joined them. She knew the name offered, but had never before had the pleasure of a face to pair with the girl Sören had once helped survive the Sickness back in London. Surprise blossomed for such an unanticipated connection to an old life, but generous welcome too. Sören had always been so cagey about his work with channelers that it felt somewhat like an unlooked for victory to discover one landed in her lap. Certainly, she was curious.
Natalie Northbrook was angelic of colouring; hair spun like butter and cream, and possessed of the most whimsically pale blue eyes, but there was a sharpness to her beauty Zhenya imagined many to cut themselves upon in thinking she might be so easily held like a jewel in one’s palm. In so considering, a curl of seiðr unravelled to brush against the girl’s nose in innocent tease. She wondered if Natalie might be such a protégé as to frown, much as Sören himself always had at playful overtures, but the weave cut and swirled away like smoke -- much to Zhenya’s delight for the finesse of such an unexpected repartee.
Natalie’s lips smoothed into the most sardonic smirk. When her gaze met Zhenya’s, one of her pale brows arched, and Zhenya laughed.
“I have not seen you here before, Natalie. Are you newly arrived to the fair city?” Then, for the benefit of her gathered companions, who might not recognise such unusual Custody aristocracy: “To what do we owe the honour of a Patron’s granddaughter?”
Natalie Northbrook was angelic of colouring; hair spun like butter and cream, and possessed of the most whimsically pale blue eyes, but there was a sharpness to her beauty Zhenya imagined many to cut themselves upon in thinking she might be so easily held like a jewel in one’s palm. In so considering, a curl of seiðr unravelled to brush against the girl’s nose in innocent tease. She wondered if Natalie might be such a protégé as to frown, much as Sören himself always had at playful overtures, but the weave cut and swirled away like smoke -- much to Zhenya’s delight for the finesse of such an unexpected repartee.
Natalie’s lips smoothed into the most sardonic smirk. When her gaze met Zhenya’s, one of her pale brows arched, and Zhenya laughed.
“I have not seen you here before, Natalie. Are you newly arrived to the fair city?” Then, for the benefit of her gathered companions, who might not recognise such unusual Custody aristocracy: “To what do we owe the honour of a Patron’s granddaughter?”
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