standing on the bottom step of the stairs with his elbows leaning on the railing and his forearms crossed,   howl quietly observes @laputian's back,   having not announced his presence yet,   and not wanting to announce his presence until he finds something good to say.   it's been days,   give a take a week or two,   perhaps,   since muska decided to make home in the castle.   why ?   because apparently,   howl can't take care of himself.

he leaps from the bottom step,   swinging around the bannister and trotting his way toward the table,   heels clicking on the wood floor to announce his presence.    ❝    do you want to know what i think ?    ❞    howl asks finally,   knowing full well that muska is probably not going to want to hear his opinion on anything at all … especially not about THIS absurd situation.    ❝    i think you clearly believe you know me better than i know myself when it comes to how well i can take care of myself.   i can take care of myself,   you know.   i've been taking care of myself on my own for nearly a decade !    ❞    that's not entirely true,   if he doesn't count the years he spent at university and graduate school.   and he hadn't exactly not been chaperoned while he was still under mrs pentstemmon's tutelage.   but he precisely doesn't count it,   so what he's saying is the truth to him.

.゜––   starter call.  /  𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. ✨

it’s hard to ignore the unnatural evidence of magic lingering around,   lurking in the cracks of brick walls and floating on the surface of two-day-old puddles.   he follows the trail resolutely,   over stone roads and cobbled walkways and through little markets.   no one else seems to notice but him,   and no one else seems to care what he’s seeking in the first place.   he ignores the usual glance,   making his way down a narrow walkway until he finds the magic comes to a stop in front of a doorway to a small half-restaurant,   half-tavern.   he makes his way inside,   glancing around until he spots the familiar figure.   just as formidable as ever,   even when he’s not surrounded by screeching weapons and musket fire. dark hair, scarred countenance, and eyes like milked amber.  

@laputian.   ‘ whatever has led you here to me,   there is destiny in its making.   ’

❝    i’m sure nothing at all but profound coincidence has led me here to you,    ❞    howl says.    ❝    or it could be myself that led me to you.   i am capable of making my own path,   you know !   i’d say it hardly even matters i didn’t have a clue you would be here.    ❞    he is,   of course,   not only being long-winded,   but lying through his teeth about that one.   it’s been a long time since last he’d seen muska,   and those were very different times.   the face of a soldier at wartime is already leagues different from that same soldier once the war is over and the armies are sent home.   in fact,   he had always imagined muska,   in all his stature and   ( quite obvious )   aura of magical prowess,   would find himself a respectable position somewhere nice and quiet,   away from the lands that were once ravaged by the fighting.   in the brief time howl had gotten to know the man,   he’d gotten the impression that muska would be a bit more excited to see him. but no matter. maybe it just hasn't hit him yet.

he dons his pleasant demeanour easily,   slipping over to a chair on the adjacent side of muska’s table and making himself at home.    ❝    i am very curious to know why you’re here.   did you find a job that required you to travel for work ?   are you merely here to take in the sights ?   have you decided the calm waters of the harbour are what you’d prefer in life ?   personally,   i would prefer somewhere less occupied.   there are prying eyes here.    ❞

.゜––   of fairytales, folklore and faekind.  /  𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

“Gotta admit, I didn’ expect to see you in the stands on the mountain. Didn’t know you were into the whole battle thing.”

Especially cause of the whole … blind thing. Ree isn’t sure how that all works. Does he ‘see’ by listening? They haven’t asked Muska about it. They’re not sure he’d give an answer they’d understand.

how was she to explain what it meant to her? how else would she describe that wonderful sensation? song... a comfort, something she takes deep pride and joy in. something that would never fade. music was a constant. she smiles at his question, all too happy to supply an answer in turn.

❝ there is a power in music which makes you forget everything outside those sounds which go straight to the heart. ¹ ❞

People as Dessert According to Poppy | Accepting

SUNFLOWER HERBAL REMEDY TEA

It’s a flavor that’s vaguely familiar to you. You’ve been burned by this flavor before, something too-hot and too-bitter, but you’re willing to give it a second chance. You approach the cup with caution, fingers wrapping around the container and hesitating with how warm it feels.

you’re worried about being burned again, but you tip your head back and drink.

… it’s not bad, surprisingly. Even if the cup is hot, the liquid itself has cooled down enough to where it doesn’t hurt. The flavor is gentler, milder than you expect — which isn’t bad. Not bad at all.