(no subject)
Aug. 5th, 2007 03:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
an_evening_starThe 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.
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.
