"Neferyt de Warsaw," Ak Burun repeats, testing the weight of the girl’s name on her tongue. The syllables skip from her mouth, staccato, a pleasant tripping of consonants followed by slower, heavier vowels. The girl’s eyes are blue, bright, and full of reasonable caution. Ak Burun’s smile grows a notch wider. "Such is the best way to see the world," she agrees. "Before one succumbs to... cold." Death is the allusion, but Ak Burun chooses not to linger on the concept.
She is far more interested in making the most of her time on this earth as well as with this boldly-patterned yearling who has so... serendipitously crossed her path. "You have brought no companion with you?" the black ‘Teke asks, making a point of lifting her gaze from the girl to scan, slowly, their surroundings. "Or perhaps," Ak Burun muses as her eyes flit back to the girl with a conspiratorial smile. "Neferyt de Warsaw needs no escort." |