Post by thewomaninwhite on Feb 13, 2010 15:44:56 GMT -5
((This is actually supposed to be canon but as there are still complications with the plot, it's going here first. Character-building thing. If you're in it you know who you are.))
Rumors were dangerous and terrible things, weapons that could be used to pierce your opponent in the heart or tear the floor out from under him. But rumors were useful things as well, because sometimes, buried under the myth, there was a grain of truth. And when The Woman in White heard of a powerful witch living in the middle of the forest, she realized that her search might be at an end.
Her feet crunched on the newly fallen snow, a bitter reminder of her state of being. If she was a spirit, a specter, as she claimed to be, then this would be so much simpler. But at the end, she had form, and form was a weakness she would tolerate as long as it served her needs.
She passed from the trees into a small clearing. The house was exactly where the local had said it would be, right before the Woman in White relieved him of his life. It was small, and run down, and to an outsider, it looked like it had been abandoned. But the Woman in White knew better. She was a myth herself, so she was more inclined to believe them. Approaching the house, she briefly debated between knocking and simply bashing the door down.
The Woman in White chose the latter, raising a foot and reducing the door to a splintering pile of rubble. She glided through the door, dress billowing behind her like some ghostly offshoot. Her eyes darted around the room, cold and emotionless. The witch was here somewhere. The Woman in White knew it.
"You will come out of hiding." She demanded, her voice as cold as ice. "You will surrender at once. I will harm you only if you continue to defy me."
Rumors were dangerous and terrible things, weapons that could be used to pierce your opponent in the heart or tear the floor out from under him. But rumors were useful things as well, because sometimes, buried under the myth, there was a grain of truth. And when The Woman in White heard of a powerful witch living in the middle of the forest, she realized that her search might be at an end.
Her feet crunched on the newly fallen snow, a bitter reminder of her state of being. If she was a spirit, a specter, as she claimed to be, then this would be so much simpler. But at the end, she had form, and form was a weakness she would tolerate as long as it served her needs.
She passed from the trees into a small clearing. The house was exactly where the local had said it would be, right before the Woman in White relieved him of his life. It was small, and run down, and to an outsider, it looked like it had been abandoned. But the Woman in White knew better. She was a myth herself, so she was more inclined to believe them. Approaching the house, she briefly debated between knocking and simply bashing the door down.
The Woman in White chose the latter, raising a foot and reducing the door to a splintering pile of rubble. She glided through the door, dress billowing behind her like some ghostly offshoot. Her eyes darted around the room, cold and emotionless. The witch was here somewhere. The Woman in White knew it.
"You will come out of hiding." She demanded, her voice as cold as ice. "You will surrender at once. I will harm you only if you continue to defy me."