Pretend log for exsilium

[thorforgottoshower]

The Huntsman had wandered through the beginnings of Initiative Hold in a daze, barely registering what the guide woman had to say to him about the world he'd been brought to. His head had craned, peering at the high ceilings and bizarre, foreign architecture with a sort of wary wonder, a very keen distrust of even the tile he walked on, which made his boots give a quiet clicking, clumps of mud from the dark forest falling off and marring the perfect clean of the hall. Nothing this perfect could be so trusted. When they'd made it to the armory, he found himself unfamiliar with half the weapons there - a feat of great proportions to him, as he generally made it his business to know of weapons. Idly, as if at a second though, he shouldered an ax and moved on with the woman. A bizarre slab of metal with what appeared to be a mirror placed in his hand later and the woman was gone, evacuating back into the building and leaving him to his own means.

For a long moment, the Huntsman merely stood in the middle of the square, a wide-eyed kind of half shock, and half suppressed want to begin to fight his way out, but finding nothing particular to fight, set in his gaze as he found himself with absolutely nothing that appeared familiar.

Until he caught a head of dark hair several paces away - skin pale as the snow and lips red as roses. Of course it would be her. Whisked away to some magical world without a second's notice and left utterly bewildered and completely unprepared for whatever dangers may arise? Of course it would be Snow White's involvement, some home. He gave a quiet huff at the notion, though he couldn't deny the relief in both seeing her well and seeing someone or at least some thing he knew. "Sno--" He caught himself, starting over. "Princess!"

Comments

[incited]

'Good luck.' The woman's voice, soft and urgent, echoed in Snow's head long after she had been left alone in the Initiative hold. The dark forest had been terrifying, but this was almost worse. Then, at least, she knew where she was, if not how to get out. She knew how she got there. It was all too bright. Too clean.

Part of her kept expecting it all to melt away. Just another dark magic illusion. Or for Ravenna to round the corner, a cruel smile on her lips and murder darkening her eyes. This seemed like exactly the sort of place she would have loved. Beautiful and sharp. Deceptive and deadly. She could feel it in the air. This place, the Initiative. It was just as dangerous as anything else she'd been forced to face off with recently. Perhaps more so.

That voice, however, was a welcome change and for a brief moment Snow was certain it was only in her head. That she so longed for any sort of familiarity that she had imagined it. And then she heard his footsteps, heavy on the unnaturally clean tile floor, and whirled to face him. Expression caught somewhere between relieved and terrified.

"Huntsman! How....I thought I was alone here."

[thorforgottoshower]

"Are you well? Nothing hurt?" It was his first order of business to check once he was up close to her, leaning to one side and then the other, peering to check for scraps, wounds or bruises. Any sign that the Initiative officers had done something to her and he'd be firstly finding her a healer and secondly, storming right back into the hold to test out the ax they'd just given him.

But she seemed intact for all he could tell, so the Huntsman feels a sort of relief setting in - both to see her here and to see her unharmed. He'd sworn to himself to protect that girl and he wouldn't be letting her out of his sight, not home and not here, wherever here was. With the serious moment passed and hopefully not too much remarked upon (he'd be brushing it off dismissively if it was ), his shoulders slouched and the Huntsman let out a sigh before going on in a half joking sort of tone.

"Just couldn't make the trip without wrangling innocent bystanders in with ya, could you, girl?" Obvious as it was that he was intent on being around to take care of her, he can't help but want to fall into the typical sort of recourse - the bickering and mock-complaining. If anything, then would be the best time for it, when nothing else seemed certain.