Snippet #1526503

Here was a man who was clearly used to scaring people shitless, glaring across a table at a woman who simply refused to be scared. Make no mistake, the advantage was his, and both of them knew it. But she would not kowtow, she would not submit, even if she chose to acquiesce. The difference was subtle, but it was a distinction that made all the difference in the world. Theirs was a world of wolves, and she the feral cat. Her life was in danger every time she chose to defy anything they said, but she simply could not be otherwise. And so she stood, proud and disdainful and for all the world as unaffected by their words as a bird in the sky, knowing that though she was only one unwary gesture, one errant word away from meeting her end by slavering fangs, she was not afraid. I do not fear you; I will not allow you to walk all over me.

She took her sweet time departing after he ordered them out, too, testing the boundaries of that fine line she toed with full knowledge of what she was doing. If ever she had doubted that this world was nothing like the one from which she had come, all such doubts had drowned, washed away in the wake of present company. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, like one of those shitty American brews she hated so much. They knew what they refused to tell her, but she'd find out what they were hiding, one way or another.

The thing about people like Leander (if, heaven forbid, she should indeed belong to a type) was that though they really didn't give a damn about much of anything, something in them could not resist a true challenge. It wasn't often anything piqued her interest enough for her to seize upon the opportunity, but there was a canny, often too-smart-for-her-own-good person in there somewhere, and she had sometime along the line decided that she and Captain Loger Kronis were going to play a little game. Hide-and-seek, if you would. So the stalked out of the armory nodding to Blondie. She could appreciate his willingness to step in; there was a sort of strength in that, though she found it highly unnecessary for anyone to intervene on her behalf.

For now, her gambit would be perfect- if grudging- compliance. She was no stranger to subterfuge; it was all too similar to dealing with her parents. The comparison almost brought a smirk to her face, but she suppressed it, choosing instead to let her impassive mask 'crack' slightly, as though she had been defeated. Oh no, she had lost the battle, but the war might yet be hers. Leander was no fool- she knew that something serious was going on, and she would not foolishly risk anyone in her effort to find what she sought, but nor would she give up the pursuit, not when that information might just save her life too.

Outside, though, she was faced with a more immediate problem. Namely, the foul-tempered beast that someone called a horse. Looks were deceptive; what might have been the picture of elegance and equine grace was a monster in the skin of a horse, and Leander knew it. Still, a truce of some kind was going to be necessary for this to work. Sighing, she approached from the side so as to be perfectly visible, her steps becoming (much to her chagrin) genuinely hesitant for a moment as she got closer. She wondered for a moment why the Guard would even bother to keep such a finicky animal, but there had to be some form of reason for it. She was a leggy thing; perhaps swiftness? The woman wasn't so sure she wanted to find out.

At this point, the cart rolled up, and she heard but did not join the conversation that took place between the professor and the driver. The latter mentioned mages, and she wondered exactly what that was all about. Sure, on some level this seemed like something that would fit in with this little world they'd been stuck in, but in another sense she really wasn't sure she believed it. Maybe magic was just what they called science here? The thought that some random guy could just appear out of nowhere, wave his hands, and cause random shit to happen was not precisely a comforting one. Hm... if she was going to win her little diversionary engagement, she would need to start by learning as much about this place as possible. She would have asked Reshma, but she had a feeling she'd closed off that avenue of conversation when she'd made her point earlier. Mayhap someone else would do the asking, and she could get the answers anyway. Hell, she could probably ask Blondie to do it, or maybe Shades.

Aware that her thoughts were edging into stalling territory, Leander moved in front of the horse's head and reached out with tentative fingers. Contrary to her expectations, she was not immediately bitten, which was definitely a good sign. She glanced past her at the sound of a commotion to hear the Professor yelling at his own horse to cease movement, which, oddly, it did. "Heels down, toes in, Professor," she advised. "Sit deep; I imagine it's gonna be a long ride." The words were rote by now, but that advice was the good kind- it generally stopped one from falling off, even if the horse did go a bit crazy. Too bad people tended to forget it when it was important.

Her dark brown animal was still regarding her warily, and she figured if it worked for the Professor, she might as well give it a try too. "Look, it's been a while, okay? I don't like this any more than you do, so let's just try not to kill each other, okay?" She had no idea if her request was understood or not (and it was a sign of just how weird this whole affair was that she was even trying), but the mare stood obediently still even after Lee slung the reins over her head and moved to the side. She'd always thought bits were disgusting, so she'd use them as little as possible anyway.

Muscle memory moved her where her will to get going could not quite stand against her stubborn recalcitrance, and she swung lightly into the saddle, following her own advice and settling comfortably. At least the clothes here were decent for riding. She noted a peculiar leather loop on the right side of her saddle and also the uncomfortable sensation where her knife sheath dug into her thigh, put two and two together, and secured the weapon to the leather snugly. Clucking her tongue, she figured that it was now or never and applied gentle pressure with her legs, urging Katherina (a relevant if slightly obscure reference and the horse's new name) forward to wait beside the cart and for the others.