Wherever he looks, if the angle is appropriate, her reflection is steadfastly missing, it seems. It's only there, behind Lahabrea wearing his skin, that the second figure appears.
She smiles, something rueful and apologetic all at once. But H̶̦̊e̵̲̽p̷͇͛ḥ̷̔a̴͍͌i̴̻͝s̶̪̽t̵̳̐o̶̪͛s̶̥̾ had done enough damage in this echoed moment. His visage now is more than unnecessary.
Thancred's permission, or perhaps his withdrawal, is more than enough for her. She slips past him, laying a hand on his shoulder as she goes. And behind Thancred, Wisteria's aether shapes first a haft in an amber-gold silhouette that grows into something that might be twining, might bloom into a double-headed axe though its shape is unlike modern weapons of similar design. But that's all it is: a shape, something glowing, teeming with magic that isn't quite settled, product of a raging mind.
"I don't suppose it's proper to ask a mirror for its final words, but you really did just keep running your mouth after the end." More to herself, maybe, but it's an allowance...
no subject
She smiles, something rueful and apologetic all at once. But H̶̦̊e̵̲̽p̷͇͛ḥ̷̔a̴͍͌i̴̻͝s̶̪̽t̵̳̐o̶̪͛s̶̥̾ had done enough damage in this echoed moment. His visage now is more than unnecessary.
Thancred's permission, or perhaps his withdrawal, is more than enough for her. She slips past him, laying a hand on his shoulder as she goes. And behind Thancred, Wisteria's aether shapes first a haft in an amber-gold silhouette that grows into something that might be twining, might bloom into a double-headed axe though its shape is unlike modern weapons of similar design. But that's all it is: a shape, something glowing, teeming with magic that isn't quite settled, product of a raging mind.
"I don't suppose it's proper to ask a mirror for its final words, but you really did just keep running your mouth after the end." More to herself, maybe, but it's an allowance...