|Derek knows all of life is (cyclical) wrote in repose,|
@ 2020-02-03 21:40:00
|Entry tags:||*log, derek friggsdottir, marta flores|
Log: Derek and Marta
Who: Derek and Marta
Where: Her "apartment"
When: After this
Warnings/Rating: Not currently.
There was a tickle in the back of her mind. Not the one that said there was another like her around, the same one that Manning and now Iris gave her, nor the one that spoke of magic. Magic tasted like fizz and cherries, and she needed the centuries between to finally find that out. No, this felt more like the fingers of a weaver on the Great Loom. Strange, that.
Were her mother's fingers on the weft? Time would tell, as it always did. Her feet carried her into the kitchen to get glasses of water for both of them from the pitcher. Cranberries and cucumbers floated on the surface, providing just a little extra flavor to it. She had a fondness for fruit now that she hadn't had before, and it was reflected in the bowls of it around the kitchen. She grabbed a sprig of fat red grapes before she headed for Marta's room.
She rapped her knuckles against the door, knowing she was expected, but still willing to be polite before entered and handed Marta one of the glasses. It seemed like this would be a conversation, an d she wasn't going to bring ale into the room. Or mead. She missed mead. But it couldn't be kept here, not currently. "How are the little ones?"