Snippet #1528419

Time: 2am the Night before the Current Morning
Location: Safehouse, North East of Versten


After she departed from Colvon and the rest of the camp, Rowan found a silent refuge back inside her safehouse. The house only had one floor with three rooms, a luxury in this time of age for one to have to them self. There was the bedroom, an eating room with a large round table and several chairs, and another room that wasn’t used for anything except to store clothes and chests with various other goods. And of course, only two windows, one on either side of the house that were covered up in drapes as soon as the sun would come out.

Currently she stood in the middle of her bedroom, a bed up against a wall and a couch opposite it, a dresser/vanity mirror in the middle up against the center wall. The whole house was dark, particularly her room which was only lit by oil lamps with black sheer scarves draping over them to dim the room even more. A breathless sigh escaped from her mouth as her arms stretched above her head towards the ceiling, feeling each individual muscle flex against her form. Could it really be true that the bulk of Kronis’s army was on their way to the East? And are they just recruits, to test the waters, or was he really meaning business this time? Rowan began to pace around, agitation and excitement swirling together as her fingers traced the polished wood of her vanity table. Her fingers rested on a glass cup full to the tip with dark rum. Her mind continued to contemplate as she picked up the drink and began to sip down the rum like water. It was a significant move on the Union’s part, no doubting that... on the other hand, would Kali be apart of this army coming? Would Kronis even leave Jarvaise? And if he wasn’t even coming out here, then... Oh, bloody hell, the ass isn’t going to come out here! she thought, her red eyes glaring at the wall across from her, and in that brief moment she let her emotions get the best of her- a rare occasion indeed. The crashing sound of glass hitting wall reverberated through the room as her half-full cup of rum now lay in shambled pieces throughout her floor, alcohol dripping down stone walls and soaking into the floor boards. It only took her a mere second to compose herself as she stared at the broken shards of glass casually, a pout on her scarlet lips. She actually liked that cup.

Rowan shrugged off the reaction, hardening her features as she walked to her bedside table, picking up an old hardback book of poetry and then made her way to the couch, laying longways so that her head rested against the arm. It was very worn, having been in her possession for years. There were more than 1000 pages of handwritten versus, once a cream color now the shade of brownish yellow. She’d read through the thing a countless number of times, but it somehow never lost its magic, figuratively. The book wasn’t enchanted, but at its best, it had the ability to calm her down. She cracked the spine of the book open to a random page, and began to read ”Lilies on Fire, when she caught a noise out of the corner of her ear. Her eyes immediately travelled to the door, but when the sound of feet meeting wood continued to echo and the door didn’t move, then the only other option would be window.

What idiot would come in through my window, she wondered curiously, setting her book down against the cushion on she crept her way around the darkness of the house, her bare feet not making a sound as she entered the eating room where the window in question would be located. She never had the need to lock windows, not when she had a full camp of men guarding her house (which they seemed to fail at considering her case now). Someone was inside, standing right in front of the window, the moon’s light bouncing against their form. Rowan stood across the room in the doorway, the moon’s light not reaching her. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t see her standing there, for his eyes wouldn’t have had the time needed to adjust.

”Rowan, it’s me, Pitchblack. Say somethin’ if you’re home,” asked a male voice, quiet and hesitant, not that she could blame the guy. His arms clung to him like a statue. Of course, she picked up on the scent, and could identify the smell to that of Pitchblack immediately. She could see him and his every feature.

Before Rowan let herself be shown, her words travelled slowly, quietly, between the air in the middle of the two. “You’ve never been the one to use a door, have you?” she asked teasingly, now emerging into the faint glow that travelled through the glass and lit her cold skin, but only for a moment. She smiled seductively, closing the gap between the two and remerging from behind Pitckblack, a quick trick of the eye. Her body was merely inches from the fellow, her mouth leaning in to where her lips brushed against his ear, hands resting against the back of the human before her, “You smell.... like...” Her nose sniffed for a moment, “Like beans... Even if I didn’t know you, I still wouldn’t want to eat you.” The welcome- though not your everyday ‘how ya doing!’, was friendly enough coming from Rowan. In fact, any welcome to a human that didn’t end in her drinking their blood was a more than kind gesture. Adding to the mixture that this was Pitchblack before her, she had the right to poke fun at him. She’d let him live before after she caught him stealing, so it wouldn’t be too far off his track record if he decided to go in for a round two.

Rowan backed away from the man, letting herself stand in the full light of the now open window so that he could get a better look at her. Her hands moved the long locks of red hair over to one side of her neck, exposing the smooth complexion of the left side of her face. Rowan’s eyes locked on Pitchblack like a feline, the red even noticeable in the dark.

“I don’t usually accept guests at this time of night or ones that come through the window... but,” she paused, turning to look out the window up at the yellow moon blocked partially by dark clouds, “Seeing as how the night is still with us, I don’t see the harm in letting you stay here with me. Is there something you need? Besides a decent meal to flush that bean stench out of you?” Her voice was fortunately normal as she rested on the windowsill, not trying to be overly vicious or cold... just normal, ‘ol Rowan with the classic smirk on her face.