Zel had hated the sight of the quaint little town from the get-go, but curiosity got the best of her as she entered the little hamlet and began exploring on her own. With a cloak donned, she didn’t look any different than any of the other vampires lurking around. She knew she wasn’t likely to find him here, so she took the liberty of pickpocketing a few people along the way to amuse herself. An expensive looking pocket watch, a pair of spectacles (what the bloody hell was she to do with those?), and an interesting silver fan were among the treasures of the day. She soon became bored with her own games and settled on finding the caverns that she’d caught wind of.
It had taken a few days lurking quietly to figure out which cave exactly was his - patience was one of the things she prided herself on, as she found it paid off more often than not. She’d planned on dropping in (quite literally, as she’d hoped to watch him enter the cave then drop down behind him to block the entrance), but her plan was foiled when she noticed he wasn’t at home. Seeing as she wasn’t invited in, she settled on slapping a fire together and waiting. Not that she needed the warmth, but it provided ways to pass the time.
She took her time wandering through the woods and finding ample firewood. A few bits of kindling, Old Man’s Beard, and a spark later - she had a full fire, crackling at the engulfing fog to sit in front of. Doffing her cloak, she sought to settle in, wearing her outfit of a stolen chemise and lace corset. Instead of sitting down in front of it, however, she turned her back to it and laid down, the tendrils of her hair precariously close to the stones lining the pit. Lying in this position, she thought to get more comfortable and she kicked her feet up onto an obliging log.
Would she had been able to drift off to sleep, she would have. Instead, she mulled over what it would be like to see Ishmael again. It had been a while since they last had an interaction. Zel wasn’t sure how he would react, but she was just itching to see the look on his face when he saw her lounging, bare legged by the fire.
Not long after she had sat down did she hear him coming. She didn't bother to turn her head. Only when the sweet, sweet sound of his curse filled the air did she turn her head to look at him, almost as if she was too lost in thought to pay attention.
Of course she was paying attention. She flexed her foot, arching it ever so slightly, as if she was getting ready to spring up. A smile twitched at her mouth; you could almost see the shine of her sharp canines glinting in the firelight.
"Hi."
It had taken a few days lurking quietly to figure out which cave exactly was his - patience was one of the things she prided herself on, as she found it paid off more often than not. She’d planned on dropping in (quite literally, as she’d hoped to watch him enter the cave then drop down behind him to block the entrance), but her plan was foiled when she noticed he wasn’t at home. Seeing as she wasn’t invited in, she settled on slapping a fire together and waiting. Not that she needed the warmth, but it provided ways to pass the time.
She took her time wandering through the woods and finding ample firewood. A few bits of kindling, Old Man’s Beard, and a spark later - she had a full fire, crackling at the engulfing fog to sit in front of. Doffing her cloak, she sought to settle in, wearing her outfit of a stolen chemise and lace corset. Instead of sitting down in front of it, however, she turned her back to it and laid down, the tendrils of her hair precariously close to the stones lining the pit. Lying in this position, she thought to get more comfortable and she kicked her feet up onto an obliging log.
Would she had been able to drift off to sleep, she would have. Instead, she mulled over what it would be like to see Ishmael again. It had been a while since they last had an interaction. Zel wasn’t sure how he would react, but she was just itching to see the look on his face when he saw her lounging, bare legged by the fire.
Not long after she had sat down did she hear him coming. She didn't bother to turn her head. Only when the sweet, sweet sound of his curse filled the air did she turn her head to look at him, almost as if she was too lost in thought to pay attention.
Of course she was paying attention. She flexed her foot, arching it ever so slightly, as if she was getting ready to spring up. A smile twitched at her mouth; you could almost see the shine of her sharp canines glinting in the firelight.
"Hi."