In-country with Fiona -- ambush

[song_tra_bong]

They head north for a while, finding nothing particular but silence and trees and room to wander. Soon enough, the light begins to fade and they head back towards the site of their earlier skirmish. For an ambush point, then end up settling on the set of trees their runner had made for earlier; they do make excellent cover.

Mary Anne leans back against a trunk, checking her knives in preparation. She is looking forward to using her newest.

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[song_tra_bong]

The cadence of Fiona's words is enough to lull her into imagining the place, close enough to touch--

And then she hears the offer.

She sits a little straighter, expression both eager and intriuged. "I...I would love that, yes, please but...how?"

[scion-of-amber.livejournal.com]

A faint smile, this time impish.

"I paid attention to Dworkin when the others were off sating their desires in various Shadows. Watch." She puts the axe and whetsstone down, and cups her hands. A long moment of thought, and then she opens them and moves them over the ground in a circular fashion. Where her hands pass, the ground is twisted into a miniature city at night.

Torches and lamps light the streets and shine off the golden domes and cliffs, and the water on the right is inky black but bobbing with boats.

[song_tra_bong]

"My God..."

Mary Anne moves closer, utterly transfixed.

Torchlight and stone and the tiles of the temples that spell out mysteries she can nearly read; the illusion of a night breeze makes a banner flutter on a tiny balcony.

"It's beautiful."

[scion-of-amber.livejournal.com]

Quietly, but honestly,

"Thank you."

[song_tra_bong]

Her eyes flicker up to Fiona's.

"You're welcome."

Maghrib is not her city--she is, if you will, a guest--but there is an exotic beauty in it that lures. It's an exchange of sorts, these women with their places that are such an integral part of them.