Post by Rosalind Tarana on Mar 8, 2013 20:41:44 GMT -5
Rosalind glanced up as the crocodile returned, shepherding the young girl Hadjara had consigned to time out.
"A familiar? Never met one before. The frog is one too, then?" The gypsy had noticed the little yellow amphibian when it hopped onto Hadjara's shoulder, though she couldn't see it now that it was hiding in her hair. She didn't know much about them but she assumed that made them different to standard animals.
Despite not being biologically able to eat meat herself, Rosalind wasn't squeamish in watching the children wolf down their meal. She did think she'd been right though; these children had never lived in a place of civilisation, had probably never been to a City - they were essentially feral, although their family life must have been warm enough since they weren't withdrawn or unhealthy. Certainly Hadjara was warm and protective with them, something Rosalind found deeply reassuring despite still thinking that the Daemon was an unusual caregiver for five young kids. Obviously the children had been loved and cared for, even if they were basically wild.
"I can tell," was all Rosalind said about this.
"My family are nomadic too, you know. I grew up moving from place to place, city to city, with long periods of time traversing the wilderness in between. It wasn't a bad life, not at all." She was wary of telling Hadjara too much about her family, the gypsy troupe that lived out of wagons and tents, their home always moving. Whatever evil lurked in the Daemon girl worried Rosalind exceedingly, far too much for her to willingly offer that kind of information and risk putting her family in harm's way - even if Hadjara actually seemed kind, protective and warm. Until she understood what was happening with her reading of the woman, Rosalind couldn't risk giving away too much.
"I've always liked kids. They're special, you know?" Rosalind glanced up at Hadjara, meeting her eyes for a brief second before a pang of terror rippled through her with such power that her breath caught in her throat. Abruptly the healer looked away, back at the kids who for whatever reason had none of the darkness about them of their older relative.
"You want to see me change, then?" She smiled and got to her feet, light and graceful. She shifted so often that it was easy for her now and in the same movement Rosalind stepped out of her dress and the change rippled over her. In a matter of seconds a large black and white horse stood where she had been, a long mane woven with feathers and beads falling over large, soft brown eyes. Rosalind lowered her head to Suhail and snorted, her nose only a few inches away from the toddler. She couldn't speak in this form but that didn't matter too much; there were other ways to communicate.
"A familiar? Never met one before. The frog is one too, then?" The gypsy had noticed the little yellow amphibian when it hopped onto Hadjara's shoulder, though she couldn't see it now that it was hiding in her hair. She didn't know much about them but she assumed that made them different to standard animals.
Despite not being biologically able to eat meat herself, Rosalind wasn't squeamish in watching the children wolf down their meal. She did think she'd been right though; these children had never lived in a place of civilisation, had probably never been to a City - they were essentially feral, although their family life must have been warm enough since they weren't withdrawn or unhealthy. Certainly Hadjara was warm and protective with them, something Rosalind found deeply reassuring despite still thinking that the Daemon was an unusual caregiver for five young kids. Obviously the children had been loved and cared for, even if they were basically wild.
"I can tell," was all Rosalind said about this.
"My family are nomadic too, you know. I grew up moving from place to place, city to city, with long periods of time traversing the wilderness in between. It wasn't a bad life, not at all." She was wary of telling Hadjara too much about her family, the gypsy troupe that lived out of wagons and tents, their home always moving. Whatever evil lurked in the Daemon girl worried Rosalind exceedingly, far too much for her to willingly offer that kind of information and risk putting her family in harm's way - even if Hadjara actually seemed kind, protective and warm. Until she understood what was happening with her reading of the woman, Rosalind couldn't risk giving away too much.
"I've always liked kids. They're special, you know?" Rosalind glanced up at Hadjara, meeting her eyes for a brief second before a pang of terror rippled through her with such power that her breath caught in her throat. Abruptly the healer looked away, back at the kids who for whatever reason had none of the darkness about them of their older relative.
"You want to see me change, then?" She smiled and got to her feet, light and graceful. She shifted so often that it was easy for her now and in the same movement Rosalind stepped out of her dress and the change rippled over her. In a matter of seconds a large black and white horse stood where she had been, a long mane woven with feathers and beads falling over large, soft brown eyes. Rosalind lowered her head to Suhail and snorted, her nose only a few inches away from the toddler. She couldn't speak in this form but that didn't matter too much; there were other ways to communicate.