Peace and Knives [MM]

[Caligrace]

"Elliot," she repeated, her voice pitched low as if not to disturb the uneasy air that surrounded them as she hummed a thoughtful note. It was a name she'd heard from him (and others) numerous times, and yet, she'd still been unable to put a face to it. At least, one that wasn't etched with madness and leaping at her from the shadows. "I guess I'll have to take your word for it. I'm none too keen on engaging with those that only seem to be interested on the surface, though I'll take a look at the thread myself. If for nothing else than entertainment," she teased, some of the spark back in her eyes, though the wariness remained. "I don't blame you, though, respect is a hard thing to be earned. It does raise the question just what exactly brought them back. They couldn't have possibly thought they'd be welcomed aft--"

Whatever she had thought to say fled her mind as something clattered off the wall to her left, causing her fingers to tighten their hold against his arm. If they had been anywhere else, there was the chance she would have been braver, but in that moment, all she could picture were a thousand spiders emerging from the darkness to climb their way up her legs and into her hair. The imagery caused her to mutter a curse beneath her breath, her free hand sneaking into the fiery waves to check for the non-existent arachnids. With a nervous sigh, she found herself taking a step closer to the man as she tried to fend off the horrific images from her overactive mind. It wasn't easy, considering the fact the all too familiar outline of Brenden flickered eerily within her peripheral. Not now, she silently pleaded, but his only answer was a chilling laugh.

Poor little girl afraid of the spiders.
Are they crawling on you, Caligrace? Sinking into your eyes?

Running her tongue along her teeth, she gave a breathless laugh and shook her head. The entire ordeal only seemed to last a few seconds, and even as the spirit chose to walk alongside them, she did her best to ignore him. "Have I mentioned how much I hate this place?" Her voice was light, despite the way her gut twisted with every step they took. Something was amiss, but she couldn't quite seem to figure it out - nor did she trust her own instincts enough in that moment to believe anything she might come up with.

[Bjorn]

In Caligrace’s defence, holding a conversation while simultaneously keeping one’s metaphorical third eye open was a feat in and of itself. There was something in the air tonight though, an eeriness that spoke of worse things to come if they didn’t heed the warning that manifested indirectly via risen hairs and dilated pupils, the itch neither could quite scratch, the thrumming that amplified his restlessness and her distraction. Bjorn’s gaze cut sideways as he watched her bat away at her hair, his own hand—arm now freed from hers, reaching to his own crown of curls for safe measure. He’d dealt in worse than cobwebs, but her discomfort was contagious, the result of his heightened awareness of her no doubt.

“No need,” he replied, coming to a stop.

“Hey, how about we meet back up at the farm?”

Bjorn had given her a tome many months ago as part of an offer he had made to the entire group should they need a place to rest, though she didn’t necessarily carry it around with her. Yet, as the question took shape in his mouth he watched her procure the tome, the answer forestalling the question. He smiled, goofy and pleased, before reaching for his own.

“Ladies first,” he said, taking a step back and motioning to the freed up space. Not that she needed it, but it made for a good distraction, injecting some humour to counter the relentless feeling of wrong that hung in the air.