[In Meridian, there is one who thinks much the same. Though Hayame helps with the initial effort to establish a base camp, knowing there is little use in gaining the Oracle’s accursed objects without a place to defend them or regroup, she leaves the moment a shape is coming together and she feels the rest can be trusted with its completion.
She has hunting to do.
As much as she has always disliked magic, considering it foreign and invasive to her natural state… she forces herself to rely on it. One of Meridian’s spells allows her to… to sense things about her surroundings, and with it’s aid she locates an impression of a polished bell, a cavernous white… thing…
And that is where she goes, galloping across what feels like fields and valleys and mountains but what is actually just the topography of a garden plot in Highstorm. Though she had been robbed of it upon her arrival the first thing the person connected to her bow had done was retrieve it and return it to her, so at least she had her weapons…
Weapons she could bring to bear against the Zenite who arrives at the cup at roughly the same time she does.
… There are many on that side which she would fire upon without hesitation. She was a warrior, and she considered herself as honorable of one as circumstances permitted, but war was war… and there was no fault in surprise or ambush against an enemy. But this one-]
Amos Burton.
[This one she gives the courtesy of the briefest of warnings. Even though she knows it’s futile, and even though she knows there is likely nothing she can say… Hayame calls out to him while sighting down the shaft an arrow aimed at his heart. From this distance, it should punch clean through, no matter how strong he was for a human. She’s calculating already, sure she could loose her arrow without losing much accuracy even if he suddenly exercised his own magic control over weight and space, but first-]
I will be claiming this object. Leave this place at once.
[The last time, in the roots of the tree with Dextera’s throat in his hands… she had been able to intimidate him off. … But this isn’t the roots anymore.
And Meridian’s chances would be much better if Amos Burton were dead.]
no subject
She has hunting to do.
As much as she has always disliked magic, considering it foreign and invasive to her natural state… she forces herself to rely on it. One of Meridian’s spells allows her to… to sense things about her surroundings, and with it’s aid she locates an impression of a polished bell, a cavernous white… thing…
And that is where she goes, galloping across what feels like fields and valleys and mountains but what is actually just the topography of a garden plot in Highstorm. Though she had been robbed of it upon her arrival the first thing the person connected to her bow had done was retrieve it and return it to her, so at least she had her weapons…
Weapons she could bring to bear against the Zenite who arrives at the cup at roughly the same time she does.
… There are many on that side which she would fire upon without hesitation. She was a warrior, and she considered herself as honorable of one as circumstances permitted, but war was war… and there was no fault in surprise or ambush against an enemy. But this one-]
Amos Burton.
[This one she gives the courtesy of the briefest of warnings. Even though she knows it’s futile, and even though she knows there is likely nothing she can say… Hayame calls out to him while sighting down the shaft an arrow aimed at his heart. From this distance, it should punch clean through, no matter how strong he was for a human. She’s calculating already, sure she could loose her arrow without losing much accuracy even if he suddenly exercised his own magic control over weight and space, but first-]
I will be claiming this object. Leave this place at once.
[The last time, in the roots of the tree with Dextera’s throat in his hands… she had been able to intimidate him off. … But this isn’t the roots anymore.
And Meridian’s chances would be much better if Amos Burton were dead.]