#sneachd

 JESTER   CAN   COUNT   THE   WAYS     in   which   cassandra   has   changed   one   by   one,   a   million   and   one   tiny   little   things   that   differ   from   the   living   memory   frozen   in   her   head   ;   time   stops   for   no   one,   least   of   all   little   girls   who   think   themselves   above   the   nature   of   things.   cass   is   older,   shrugged   off   the   girlhood   that   still   clings   to   jester   like   snow,   has   lived   twice   the   lifetime   she   herself   did   live.   and   she’s   ...   happy.   she   hopes   beyond   all   hope   that   cassandra   has   been   happy   and   loved   and   safe   and   ⸻

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   074.  francine millers ( dynamics )  —  rel. cassandra / sneachd

@sneachd​​: investigation check

"i know i’ve got an extra pair of boots around here somewhere,” imogen muses aloud as she both searches for the riding boots and starts pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail simultaneously. thankfully, she doesn’t have to look [ 20 + 3 = 23 ] far. “well, i’ll be. if they’d have been a snake, it would’ve bitten me!” she smiles over at cassandra and snatches up the boots.  imogen walks them over to her, sizing her up one last time. 

Comparing the great city of Whitestone to the decaying valley of Barovia is wrong, but what else can she use? She knows deep, dark woods and stalking beasts. She knows pockets of civilization with corruption and distrust, with people that look to the ground and pretend they do not hear cries for help. Whitestone is different.

( She’s heard the tale, though. A whisper of what happened, but she closed her ears to the bulk of the talk. She’s had enough darkness, enough vampires. )

What has her attention is the tree. It’s twisting branches are covered with growth – yellow and orange and red, full and lush and beautiful – and Florence cannot help but reach out and place both hands upon its trunk. “ This is a wonderful city, ” she says, acknowledging the other but unable to look away. “ It is something to be proud of. ”

              it  was  strange,  re-learning  the  paths  she  had  once  known  like  the  back  of  her  hand  like  a  child  learning  one’s  home.  but  vesper  was  doing  so  with  the  grace  she  had  learned  at  her  mother’s  back  before...  before  she  had  welcomed  the  devil  into  her  family  home.  she  was  still  learning  exactly  what  happened  while  she  was  out,  gaining  bits  and  pieces  from  others.  but  one  thing  remained  a  factor,  no  matter  what.  that  cassandra  had  suffered  so  much  more  than  she  had  ever  wished  for  her  sister  to.