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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
Strange... Rayond had looked away from her after hoisting her blankets away from her and demanding her feet. He didn't even have the courtesy to look at her as she was speaking. Had he thought she would be nude under there and then was suddenly ashamed of his actions? Unlikely. Her tights were thick tights, but still tights nevertheless which meant that they were supposed to highlight her finer features, i.e. her long legs. They were certainly thinner than a pair of pantaloons, but they were not as drafty as an open skirt without them. Her skirt was meant to hold its pleats even when being sat on, but it did give her more of a feminine look rather than the androgynous one that she sometimes cultivated. Her silver kissed eyes were confused as she looked at him. He was straight to her except his aristocratic face. The high cheekbones were prominent, exposed by the curtain of hair that hung away from them. The short forelocks that hid his forehead also darkened his eyes, making them look deep set. The fur of his cloak made his head seem like that of a grim vulture peeking above the tips of its wings.

Observations made, she took the first sock in her hand and began to pull it on with utmost care as she slid the wool thing over her sensitive foot. The bandages around them should have been changed a while ago, but this Rayond would have none of it, she supposed. She had to bunch up the fabric first, opening it wide to insert her toes first without actually having to scrape the wool against the fabric of tights and bandage. Then it was all about wiggling it back and forth gently in order to get it past the lump at the end of her leg that she called a foot. Once it was past the ankle, she was fine more or less. As she started on the second sock with the same slow process, she decided to speak. If you are expecting someone to arrive in this village, I doubt anyone can find a trace of you through the blizzard, even an expert tracker. And unless you have told someone where you were going, why would anyone decide to stop at this place in the middle of nowhere? I even failed to find it, else my feet would not be in the sorry state they are. I bet he told someone he would be headed here. It would be like him to play multiple games, pretending to do one thing and then secretly do another. Brown is such a fool! The man had him in shackles! The last thing I would do is trust someone who had presumably slaughtered my protection and then dragged me around in irons. 'Oh no!' he says. 'Not Rayond! He would never lie!' Pfft. Any man will lie when it suits him. Just look at history! History is full of liars!

The second sock was placed on her feet. Then she slowly sidled over to the side of the bed to lower her feet into her boots as carefully as possible. Her silvery hair with its dark ends of black hung over her face as she bent down like a gauze curtain that hung to her waist, obscuring some things while others were enhanced. Her knife shaped ears stuck out, their hoops shining brightly in the glow of the fire of the room, casting them a dancing orange. She brushed it aside to give herself a window to see better as the first boot slid home. The dark makeup of her lashes outlined her large eyes well, clearly denoting the fact that she was looking at her feet and not at the man now. The second boot slid on faster, making her wince and hiss softly as she pulled it on too quickly and rubbed it wrong. Ow!
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Frostbitten · Hiskarin Mountains

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