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[personal profile] blindfoster posting in [community profile] formmusebox


Quentin isn't exactly new to being a tag-along in the Shadow Roads. He's been run through with Tybalt and Raj too many times to count by now, but they're never going to be somewhere he's comfortable. He's not Cait Sidhe. He's not meant to travel those roads. He trusts Raj, with his life among other things, so that makes it at least a little less terrifying.

It does not make it any less dark and cold, however, and as they run, Quentin holds his breath and keeps his eyes shut, trusting the hand he has gripped tightly in his as his lifeline and hoping it's a run that ends before his lungs start really protesting the lack of oxygen.

He's not expecting the sudden fall, like the bottom of whatever the ground exists beneath their feet in the Shadow Roads dropping away entirely. He lands hard, an unpleasant belly flop onto the ground. The impact knocks whatever air is left in his lungs out with an oof, and Quentin's eyes snap open.

It's still cold, but that's probably more to do with the snow covering everything. There's light here too, a moon soft twilight that bathes the whole place in an otherworldly dreamlike illumination. This is not Berkeley.

Raj's hand is still in his, and Quentin jerks his gaze sharply in that direction to check on his best friend. "Raj? What just happened? Are you okay?"

Date: 2020-03-15 12:03 am (UTC)
risingshadow: (pic#13543250)
From: [personal profile] risingshadow
The King is the Land in Faerie. He has known this long before October walked into his life and became his knight in all but name. The fact the land is answering their desires is a warning.

Unease and worry are the bedfellows of a King of Cats who walk the shadows and viciously defend their courts. "Yes, home in time to give our orders to the massive house order for take out. It's chinese tonight. I want those eggrolls again, the ones with the shrimp."

He follows Quentin down the path as it opens wider for them, responding to both of them as if they had always meant to walk together. He doesn't let himself examine that. The trees whisper and groan as they shake snow from their branches and new leaves grow.

"It's not just responding to me." He says, the worry growing like claws sliding forth. "It's both of us." Why? There is only ever one King of a land. Why both of them? Is it just that the land is lonely? The land doesn't answer but the road continues winding through the forest as the trees move back and a clearing is visible in the distance.

Where are they? What was this before? Worry keeps growing in him. Is this really an islet?

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