(no subject)

[an_evening_star]

The time passes slowly as Sal's caravan creaks its way back toward Wall, and Yvaine has lost track of the exact passing of days and hours and minutes. They seem to blend indecipherably into each other - resting as the woman drives and making her careful way up onto the wagon's roof while the woman sleeps, head tilted up at the sky and nighttime oddly quiet.

Everything, it might be noted, is oddly quiet.

Her fingers tap lightly at the cage's thin bars to attract some sort of attention. (It was nice, on occasion, to be acknowledged at least a little.)

"Tristran?"

It hasn't really gotten her much of anywhere the last couple of times that she's tried, but she's tired and she's lonely and it doesn't so much matter if he's answering her anymore so much that he is there.

Comments

[tristranthorn]

As per usual, Tristran doesn't respond right away. Crawling on all fours, he comes to sniff her, then walks off towards the other side of the cage where there is a small (somewhat dirty) gathering of straw bits.

[an_evening_star]

She flops backward onto the bed and there's a groan, drawn out and probably more befitting of someone being violently murdered than someone suffering from a severe case of moron-withdrawal.

(But he's her moron - and she's used to him.)

A few more moments of sulking quietly - the sound of her own breathing isn't half as interesting as it could be - and she props herself back up, arms folded and nose back against the bars.

"Don't think that I am wholly dependent on you," she mumbles. "Just because I am here again."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran's ears perk at the sight of Yvaine once again -- he knows it is a familiar face now -- as he watches her with eyes that resemble droplets of black ink.

Then nose twitching, he goes about his own business -- which generally means doing absolutely nothing.

He is rather hungry, though. This he knows.

[an_evening_star]

He's always hungry. It would be far more astounding if he were not.

A quiet sigh and she unlatches the cage door, scooping him easily between her fingers and depositing him just as easily into her lap. Another moment and her free hand - the one not skittering somewhere behind his ears - snatches a handful of nuts off of a nearby counter.

It's not as though she was planning on eating them herself or anything.

"This is wretched, you know," a laugh. "Well, of course you know, as it is likely a fair bit more wretched for you. But it is just - I - I cannot say that I am terribly fond of people hurting you."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran's nose twitches as he explores the area around Yvaine's lap, which to him, is a very wide space of fabric.

Then at the sight of nuts, he scurries towards the hand filled with them, straightening slightly. His whiskers will likely tickle her skin.

He makes no sign that he hears her.

[an_evening_star]

She smiles softly for a few moments - muted glow brightening the room slightly and then she takes a deep breath, far more wavery than she would have preferred, setting her chin.

"I am not precisely certain why now seems like a logical time to tell you this - but you're cute and tiny and far less likely to yell at me, so I am supposing that there is some sense behind the decision."

It's safer, really.

[tristranthorn]

For the record, even though Tristran is nothing but a rather defenseless dormouse, he would likely never yell at her no matter what form he took.

In any case, Tristran grabs for one of the nuts between his paws and slowly begins to nibble, looking quite content.

Perhaps this is his best attempt at giving her a cue.

[an_evening_star]

And take it she does - primness fading easily into an uncertain, almost questioning, murmur. Low and quiet and unusually careful.

"I have watched people a great deal," she says. "Not that - well, I know that it sounds strange, but what else are we to do?"

A grin and she presses a finger to his nose, "I did not lie when I said that my sisters were very likely gossiping something awful about you."

She breathes out a quiet huff, sigh catching nervously.

"Anyway, it is just - I have watched people and I have seen lives and people really do not do that many incredibly interesting things. There are very rarely the impressive sort of ones that warrant their own stories to be written. And it is not to say that I think that I have done very many interesting things - well, at least not prior to this insanity - but, it is mostly - what I am saying is - is that I think that I could be content doing utterly ordinary things with you."

Boring even. She thinks that she could be boring with him - just only if it was with him.

"And after this we certainly do deserve some ordinary things," she questions. "Don't you think?"

[tristranthorn]

Tristran sniffs at her finger, staring at her with sleepy looking eyes, a placid 'expression' (if one can read expressions on a dormouse's face).

There is a glimpse of something to show, perhaps, that he might be listening. That he might hear her. But only if one looks very closely.

But then he moves once more towards the hand with the nuts. He wants another one, of course.

[an_evening_star]

"It's out of nowhere, isn't it?" she tucks her hair behind her ears self-consciously. "Or so you would think, but it - it's not really. I - I have rather figured for a while."

She's not really looking at anything in particular - just kind of gazing off at some middle-distance that has somehow managed to appear in her lap and fidgeting with the hem of one of her sleeves.

"You - well, you sleep on the right side of the bed. You know, without having to ask and not the one that I want to be sleeping on and, it is strange because it was not something I ever gave very much thought to, if I were to be honest. But it seems rather ridiculously important when you really get down to it, because how can one stand an eternity of sleeping on the wrong side of the bed?"

She blinks, then flutters her fingers hastily.

"Not that I am implying in any way that you would want," a sigh and another messy flop backward. "Oh, I am saying this all wrong."

[tristranthorn]

There is no wrong to a dormouse, especially a very happy one who is being well-fed. As far as she may notice, he likes Yvaine just fine because she has food. To a little rodent, the logic is as follows: food is good. Person with food is therefore good.

He has eaten three nuts now, and is content to just sit there, leaning against Yvaine's hand, his soft fur brushing up against her.

[an_evening_star]

After a few moments with her eyes closed, reminding herself how to breathe properly and assuring herself that her heart was still caught properly behind her ribs, she chances a quick glance downward.

"Don't look at me like that," she grumbles. "It is not as though you are a thrilling conversationalist yourself."

She's quiet again, thoughtful. One set fingers running slowly along the soft line of his back and the other pressed to the space where her heart is.

"You know?" she breathes. "I wouldn't make you do anything spectacular for it either."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran doesn't move. The feeling of her fingers against him is soothing, comforting. The only thing moving is his nose as it twitches, whiskers moving about.

Black eyes slowly hide behind furry little eyelids as Tristran seems about ready to settle in for sleep. Then he suddenly scratches behind his ear with his foot. It is a very natural reflexive movement.

[an_evening_star]

"Just -" and she laughs, wrinkling her nose at him. "Want to know a secret?"

She props herself up a bit and scoops him into her hands once more, holding him close enough that her nose can press against his.

"It's really yours already," she whispers, settling him into the pace where her neck meets her shoulder. "It's just a matter of asking."

Her own eyes flutter a bit, humming a quick snatch of something before she continues, "See? Nothing hard at all. Especially anything involving conniving glittery females - or any other females for that matter."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran's little face scrunches up a bit before he gets on all fours, initially finding it difficult to find a stable position on Yvaine's shoulder.

Little feet take a step forward, then they move back again. He isn't sure it's safe yet. He peers up towards her face as though questioning. And then he looks away.

[an_evening_star]

"I am slowly losing control over my inner monologues," she muses, mostly to herself. "It's a bit distressing, all things considered."

She lets her hand linger upward for inspection by tiny paws, "Hopefully they will recover before you do."

Her gaze cants downward, eyes shaded.

"There's room," she replies to his glance, trying not to laugh as he skitters along her skin. "I wouldn't drop you."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran seems to be reassured by this - well, as reassured as a dormouse can be under the circumstances.

Moving lightly across her shoulder and down her arm, his feet move one after the other until he is back, more or less in her hand. It takes him several moments, considering how large she is in comparison to him and a few slip-ups, in which he almost falls over or loses his grip.

[an_evening_star]

The star monitors his progress with an unusual attention to detail - she had promised not to drop him, after all - and arcs an eyebrow at him when he's finished. She's somehow certain that there were easier ways of doing that.

Then again, he would hardly be Tristran at all if he made things simple.

"I am going to miss you," she concludes. "When you are hers."

And, somewhere in her, that tiny little voice chimes, 'I would do it better. Let me?' But she still has her pride - what little of it is left. She isn't quite ready to beg.

A quiet laugh, lips tugging up wryly, "I speak as though you have been mine."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran makes no indication to show that he has heard her as he crawls back into her lap, sniffing about curiously and not without the slightest bit of indifference.

He approaches her fingers again, seeking that warmth, paws using her fingers as leverage to stand while his nose continues to twitch, taking everything in through smell as opposed to sight.

[an_evening_star]

"And I continue to justify myself to a mouse."

She shakes her head, fingers curling lightly around him almost reflexively.

"There is something very sincerely wrong with this," she says, voice quietly amused and barely carrying. "Or at least one should find something wrong with this."

She doesn't seem too terribly bothered, all things considered.

[tristranthorn]

Tristran is hardly bothered either. Shrinking back down, all four paws on the fabric of her dress, the little dormouse curls into a ball.

He's getting rather tired.

[an_evening_star]

"It is comforting to know that some things have not changed," she says dryly, with a roll of her eyes. "Eat and then sleep, Tristran. You are getting predictable in your old age."

She can't really help but smile - she's getting rather used to it.

"A song then, do you think?"

[tristranthorn]

Tristran's little form nuzzles himself against her dress, small black eyes slowly closing.

A song would be nice.

[an_evening_star]

"I will take that as a yes," she replies, voice already sliding into that strange sort of something else.

It's a quiet lullaby, strange and filled with dark skies and bright lights and the dizzy tumbling she's become increasingly familiar with. And maybe - just a little, mind you - maybe it's a love song.

[tristranthorn]

It is a beautiful song.

A most beautiful song that makes the little mouse perk awake once more -- that blurriness gone for the most part -- but only for a moment. And then it is all mousiness once more.

Eyes closed, he rests.