Descended in a Right Line

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The day found Aravis inside for once, despite the relative temperance of the weather. She'd woken to find a letter addressed to her from Cor, filled with the usual talk of how much he hated court, and stories of their friends (Hwin sends her love, he wrote, and Bree his questions of the quality of the horses there. He seems to continue to hope that someday you will write back that there are Talking Horses there, but send your assurance that they're still not as grand as he.)

This time, however, the letter ended in a question -- or rather, an invitation to spend the summer in Archenland.

Aravis was inside today, her window open and her dog resting on her feet as she sat at her desk composing a reply. She hoped that by the time she reached the end of it, she'd know the answer, though she certainly had an idea for what she'd respond.

[door open and so is the post, if you'd like!]

When Aravis hurried in, her hair plaited neatly and swung over one shoulder, she hardly expected anything interesting. Her experience for the last nearly-two years taught her that after a horrific weekend like this past one, little would actually occur for a good long while.

Oh, foolish Aravis.

She busied herself caring for the horses before moving to the front of the shop and working on polishing a few of the tools.

[KING ME OMG. um, also open for all your Gig needs. ETA: GODDAMN YOU, SEMAGIC. Let's all pretend this is in the right place.]

Aravis had gone to bed a terminally-unimpressed seventeen year-old noblewoman.

When she awoke, she was a far-happier six year-old with an inability to correctly say 'Tarkheena.' Yes, still.

"Good morning, Ata!" she said brightly, nearly falling out of the bed in her effort to pet her dog. "You're my favorite dog, and that is why I let you sleep in my bed. Even though you are a dog and a boy. I forgive you."

She was a generous child.

"Wanna go see Trenor?"

Ata didn't really give an indication either way, but Aravis took it as such. "I need to get dresseded first." And thus began the treacherous task of toddling out of bed and attempting to dress herself. This could only end badly.

[mostly 'stablishy, but the door's knockable if you want. YAY WEETINY.]

Aravis was still quietly, carefully not thinking about the letter she'd addressed to Seely and mailed moments prior as she saddled Trenor, affixing her small satchel of food and gifts before easily swinging up into the saddle herself and adjusting her cloak. It had been the right thing to do, she was sure, and she was positive that if there was anything she'd have in abundance whilst on her break in Archenland, it would be time to reflect.

As she gently urged Trenor into a trot towards the woods, she wished she had thought to pack more chocolate just for herself, rather than to bring to the men of the court. At this rate she'd be through her stash by the time she was halfway through the woods.

[establishyyyyyyyyy.]

Fresh from Valdemar and having checked on Trenor, Aravis returned to her room and curled up on her bed with a book.

Seventeen, so far, did not feel terribly different from sixteen. And so far she wasn't any taller, which was a disappointment.

[door partly open, post open if you like.]

After her class, Aravis came back to her room to attempt to alleviate the headache that had been building for the better part of the weekend.

Having Lasaraleen around, as fun as she had been when they were younger, tended to have that effect.

Eventually she began to pen a letter to Cor, striking out several initial greetings of 'HOW THE HELL DID SHE GET HERE?' and 'WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?' and, most importantly, 'I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.'

[open post and open door. entertain me as I am home sickies from school. *pathetics*]

Lady Aravis gazed out her window, utterly forlorn as she surveyed the landscape before her. Certainly, she was to inherit riches beyond her wildest dreams, but what good was that when she was so miserable? There was only one thing that made her happy, one speck of joy in her life torn asunder.

She wiped a tear away with one silk-gloved hand, adjusting the tiny veil attached to her hat.

Yes, she needed a hat indoors.

[for her PARAMOUR]

When Aravis awoke in the early hours of Thursday morning, she stretched, flailing an arm over her face.

Her somewhat rough face.

"Nrfle?"

She blinked awake, and looked at her hand.

Her large, masculine hand.

"...again?"

[for le priestly one, at his leisure!]

Given that she was still a small cat thing, and given how irritated she was with the whole situation in every way, Aravis had taken to attempting to sleep away the days and thus deal less with how annoying it all was.

Plus, for some reason, she felt compelled to sleep about twenty hours a day anyway. She wasn't sure why.

As a result, she was curled up in Seely's bed -- under the blanket, with her head on the pillow, far more like a girl than a cat -- and out cold.

[for he whose alcove this be.]

Aravis stretched in her sleep, throwing an arm over her eyes in protest and curling a little closer to the person in the bed next to her. The dog on her feet shifted a bit in response as well, but Aravis mainly ignore both occupants of the bed for the moment, in the interested of attempting to prolong her sleep.

[for that one guy]

So, this is totally redundant given that I've mentioned as much in two different OOC notes, but I'm moving tomorrow. Which isn't actually noteworthy, as internet is all set up at the new place and all (given that that's where I'm typing this, actually), but I'll be a little more scarce than usual given all the fun unpacking and such. I should be on AIM and whatnot like I always am, but a bit slower than usual.

*offers pie to go with my gratuitous availability post zomg*

The night prior had been very nice. And given how that night had gone, it wasn't really any surprise that Seely and Aravis had worn themselves out, and fallen asleep tangled up together.

Which was likely much more convenient when they were humans, since now, things were...well, a bit different. Aravis hadn't really registered it, though, when she stirred enough to start to wake. "Mm. Morning."

Aravis was somewhat aware that not all was right when she stirred, but she wasn't awake enough to notice.

Instead, she just snuggled closer to the warm form in the bed with her.

[for he who is in the bed with 'her']

Aravis was beyond exhausted when she returned to Seely's room, half-hoping he'd beat her back somehow.

When she saw he hadn't, she simply retrieved Ata, tugged off the veils she'd been wearing for most of the past few days, kicked off her shoes, and curled up in bed.

She hadn't actually meant to fall asleep while waiting, but it had happened nonetheless.

[for he who belongs to the room.]

Having spent the week worried sick and desperately trying not to show it, Aravis was deeply relieved by the note she'd gotten in the mail that morning.

Not so relieved that she hadn't gone down to the weapons locker and gotten her scimitar as well as the knife she'd been given for Christmas, of course. Not better.

She'd taken the blades back to her room, and was carefully polishing them. It'd been awhile since she'd done so, and if she had any say in the price those so-called angelic creatures would pay, her sword would need to be so shiny they'd see the reflections of their own destruction.

Aravis was perhaps a bit ambitious.

[for the roomie.]

It was a very giggly Aravis who tugged Seely down the beach by the hand, laughing and only stumbling a little. "I loooooooooove Mexico," she informed him.

[for the boy, who is not as drunk as the girl, and it will be nws omg due to drunken clumsy sexingness.]

Aravis sincerely hoped that maybe the mask she was wearing would ensure that they actually made it to the dance at all tonight, given how confident she was feeling about her dress. She was pleased with the color and the cut, and had even taken the time to dress her hair for once before sliding the mask on.

And with any luck, Seely'd like it too, but they'd actually make it out the door. It always seemed to be a challenge with them.

[up early because of time zones and my own worry about possibly being AFK for a small chunk of the afternoon/evening. for the boyfriend, or the roomie or any visitors before him.]

After she'd checked in on Trenor and taken Ata out, Aravis curled up on her bed with a book. She didn't much like the quiet, even if she did know where Karal was.

She kept looking up at the door over the top of her book, though, like she was expecting someone. No reason.

[for the boy.]

Inspired by this post...

( Fifty Facts About Lady Aravis of Anvard )