coimiceoir: (Discussion)
coimiceoir ([personal profile] coimiceoir) wrote in [community profile] thoughtformed 2014-03-14 03:38 pm (UTC)

Crom's scales hiss under the breeze, and she staves off alarm for a cautious approach. When scratching at the window still yields no results, the sprite licks her thumb and rubs it along the glass to make that fascinating sound that seems to upset so many people. Still no response.

It is a small thing to drop from the window ledge and land lightly, darting around to the door and up the stairs to find the entry that doesn't push against her. She is welcome here, and has no trouble opening the door, slipping inside and pushing it to behind her. The dark doesn't bother her, night-eyed as she is, so finding the proper bedroom takes no more than a few seconds.

She leaves the door wide, and pauses, wrinkling her nose. It may not smell to a human, but to her the scents of illness and despair are more than strong enough. Hopping up onto the window ledge, Aisling flicks open the funny catch and pushes it open, allowing the cleaner air to flow in and dispel the old. Now for the source of her concern.

Slowly, carefully, she lets herself down on his bed and crawls up to sit cross-legged on the pillow over his head. Leaning forward lets her hair curtain them off from the rest of the world. Her fingertips brush gently from the center of his brow to his temple, and she says softly, "Aiden. Belanus. Come back to me."


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