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She stands there motionless, half submerged in water, and listens carefully as another night rolls upon her. She finds herself in a quiet little place, unpromising enough that it could allow to rest one’s weary head, even if for a fleeting trice. Hornet slowly blinks water from her eyes, unsure of what to do with herself in this rare instance of stillness. She generally didn’t bode well when it came to loose ends, but today was different. At least to some extent. Against her better judgement, she was waiting.
It’s quiet, and the sound of flowing water soothes Hornet ever so slightly. It's quiet in a way this whole kingdom hasn't been so far, and that alone was supposed to be a nice change of phase. Quiet like a home long abandoned. Dark, gloomy, lonesome. Familiar. But it's not, nothing is, not for very long. But it is sufficient enough. It will do.
She was no beast of familiarity after all.
Hornet knows this piece of comfort would soon abandon her, but that was given. Round and round it always goes. It's funny, in a way. She never thought lack of sound would really bother her, but as of late she started to associate silence with things to come. Wicked things, usually. Wicked things and vile beasts. Her mind circles on itself, and that's when she knows this fragile piece of comfort has overstayed its welcome. Hornet allows it to depart.
She closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head from side to side as if to quake her most recent conundrum, as though the motion would free her from whatever plagued her mind. It does not, but she is not surprised. The realization of such gesture alone is quite bashful. Hornet’s hands find their way to her prized weapon, fingers brushing absent-mindedly against the strings almost on their own as she gets more and more detached by her grim thoughts.
Hornet could name her fair share of vile beasts, that's for certain. She could name select few that had lasting impact on her being, spare the useless empathics or lack there of. Be that as it may, this one is different whether Hornet liked it or not. This one in particular seemed to always have a third sense for whenever Hornet was having as much as a decent hour to herself.
She drives her wild, Hornet realizes suddenly, much to her own surprise. But saying that would give that one too much of a credit, so she reconsiders her thoughts just as quickly as they had appeared. That adversary of hers never does what little that Hornet expects of her. It's absolutely fascinating in a way, if it wasn't for the circumstances. Quite the enigma that one is. Concerning, perplexing. Curious in a way she managed to snake into Hornet’s mind, only as if to mock her even more. It was a process, of course, as everything else is; Hornet paid little consideration to newfound foe, generally more focused on foreign surroundings she was put in, but their departure had jumpstarted that firm captivation. Her chest tightens ever so slightly still. Whatever was brewing inside of her was fairly unfortunate.
It was childish, really, and Hornet knows she is above such matters. Supposed to be above such matters. Should be above such matters.
But Hornet also likes her dignity challenged every once in a while. Keeps her sharp, keeps her vigilant.
That fencer, as other folk called her adversary, was nothing short of nonsense. Unpromising and bratish thing whose confidence borders on arrogance; like she lived for the bit and any bit for that matter. Always such an attitude, such burning bravado. But, for once, she was seemingly able to match that shrieking ambition, to back up her boasting outlook. She was feisty, Hornet thought, and too devious for her liking.
But she could rival Hornet whenever she would be humble enough to shut her mouth. But of course, it was yet to happen.
A fool is what she is, for letting her foe to escape. She should have pushed that one into scorching seas below them, only if for her own pleasure, only if to hear that whimsical voice turn into wail of pain, only if to save her future trouble. It wouldn’t be the first time her needle had claimed someone’s soul, it surely wouldn’t be her last. But she did not. And now Hornet was facing her own mistakes whenever the idea of that ridiculous thing would invade her thoughts. And invade her thoughts it did.
Hornet was always alert, always watchful, even in places she considered to be somewhat safe, for as long as she could remember herself. Caution was not new, prying was. Stopping midway upon discovery of a new area, listening carefully for these very specific sounds: humming, laughter, shrieking delight. What a solemn joke.
She steadies herself with a sharp, drawn out breath, and considers her impressive amount of concerns. Important concerns, more time-consuming issues, not just some simpleminded youngins affairs! The majority of them she could solve on her own, she was in control. She had experience with solving much greater problems after all.
How shameful it was, then, that she held almost no power in this specific matter, no significant experience. How shameful it was to consider, to allow that very being to reside in her head, even if begrudgingly.
The sound of an awfully familiar chain of steps catches her attention, immediately forcing her out of this awkward state of mind. Hornet stiffens suddenly, mostly on reflex, and tightens grip on her weapon as the sound approaches her. She meets it with curiosity, mind well aware before eyes are. About the time, she thinks. Round and round it always goes after all. It was intriguing, really, grasping the surface. Hornet was well intent on finding out why this one is so set in getting in her way.
And lo and behold, there she arised. There is something in the way she strings words, something almost alluring, something most definately mad.
"Kept you waiting, huh?"
Good riddance.