picknicking

[dark_light]

There's something unutterably pleasant about landing in a bit of woods in the middle of Nowhere, Manitoba, removing a sandwich and an apple from her backpack and having a picnic before she's ready to move on. She could eat in midair, but it makes it too likely that she'll drop something and find it unrecoverable.

Path's on her knee, and her cloudpine is propped up against the tree next to her.

Comments

[dark_light]

"Just hold on," laughs Isabella, "and tap me on the shoulder or yell if it's too fast."

They speed up gradually.

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin doesn't ask her to slow down, and has no complaints. There's a faint smile on his face once they get to the fun speed of flying, though. His daemon, on the other hand, laughs with joy. It's fun for a flightless bird to fly! Wheee!

[dark_light]

When they attain top speed without any complaints, Isabella hollers over the wind, "Couple hours to get there."

[prodigal_miser]

"Alright!" he yells back. He holds on and plans out how he's going to go about the spells she's asked him to cast. It's quite a good way to occupy several hours. They're very complicated spells.

[dark_light]

After the promised couple hours - during which it gets dark enough that they can see the lights of civilization below them - they reach Isabella's teacher's house. Isabella slows and lands on the front walk.

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin notices the lights, but doesn't comment. When they arrive, he gets off of the cloudpine with his daemon carefully, and then grins at her. "That must be a marvelous way to travel."

[dark_light]

"I love it," grins Isabella. She opens the front door, which isn't locked, and calls, "Metis! Company!"

"Starclad!" shouts another woman's voice from inside the house.

"Are you uptight about nudity?" Isabella inquires of Adarin.

[prodigal_miser]

"Uh. I can look away? If she wants to be without clothes in her own home, I suppose it's unfair of me to ask any different," he says, looking somewhat embarrassed but trying not to make a big deal of it.

[dark_light]

"She won't care if you look at her, but she'll be annoyed if you make a big deal about it. Witches don't have any hangups about being naked," shrugs Isabella. "We go around in our silks because mortals care, but as often as not skip it when it's clan lands or our own homes or whatever."

[prodigal_miser]

"I will not make a big deal of it. Isn't that er- cold, though?"

[dark_light]

"Witches don't get cold," laughs Isabella. And she leads him into the house. "Can I stash him in the attic?" she yells. "For a few days?"

"As long as he doesn't interfere with anything or bother me," Metis shouts back. "And you do your errands."

[prodigal_miser]

"That seems extremely lucky. You could just walk into a snowdrift and feel nothing at all?" asks Adarin, curiously. When Metis yells back he adds, "And, no interference or bothering if I can help it. Interfering with spells could get people killed. So no."

[dark_light]

"Good," says Metis.

"I mean, I can tell that it's snow. Snow feels like snow," says Isabella. "Just not cold. I'll show you the attic."

Predictably, the attic is up two flights of stairs.

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin is not surprised by the attic's location. If they'd gone down he might have been confused, but up is a very sane direction to go for an attic. He looks around it and nods. "This will be fine, thank you."

His daemon predictably follows them up the stairs. She finds a nice place to sit and does so!

"Shall I get started on the spelled rocks, then?"

[dark_light]

"Can you do it without an alethiometer handy?" asks Isabella.

[prodigal_miser]

"I could get the rocks, and a basic plan of how to do the spell down, but I would need an alethiometer in front of me to actually complete it," he explains.

[dark_light]

"Aha. Well, there are rocks around outside, if they'll suit. I'm supposed to make dinner for me and Metis and can probably get away with sharing with you, but after that, if the rocks outside won't do, we can go looking elsewhere, and if they will I can start on the spell to fetch one of the missing alethiometers."

[prodigal_miser]

"They will, unless the rocks are particularly flimsy or something. Or if you want them to be in some kind of fancier stone?" says Adarin. "I brought my own food, if sharing dinner's a problem. I'd expected this to be a long trip and to not find any witches that would let me borrow their attic."

[dark_light]

"I'd like them to hold up reasonably well, but I don't want them for their cosmetic value. We'll see if Metis makes any pointed remarks about dinner while I'm making it, shall we?"

[prodigal_miser]

"Sure. If she does, I'll take the hint and skulk off to the attic to eat cold bread in silence," he says, teasing a little.

[dark_light]

"I can get you fed," snorts Isabella. "I'll do it, too, for an alethiometer index that works like you promise I'll find a way to get you dinner at a five-star restaurant, but Metis might take exception to divvying up the squab."

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin laughs. "Fair enough! Thank you. I honestly don't mind sticking with the food I brought. Most of it's meant to be cooked and isn't cold bread at all."

[dark_light]

"Do you cook with magic?" asks Isabella, departing the attic to get started on the aforementioned squab.

[prodigal_miser]

"Only technically. I light a fire with magic, then it's regular cooking from there," he explains brightly. He follows her out of the attic, to look for some suitable rocks.

[dark_light]

"Please don't set the attic on fire. You can use the firepit in the backyard when we aren't if you like." Isabella ducks into the fridge for two already-plucked-and-beheaded pigeons and takes them out to the back yard, where she skewers them on the spit. She lights the firepit with a dash of salt from the covered crock next to it; soon the pigeons are cooking.