To Seek, To Strive and Not to Yield [dead]

[orpheus]

It had been a little while since Ekaterina had gotten out of Tannoch, but when she'd planned on leaving the city she really hadn't wanted to be going back to her old hometown, Ja'rish. No, some part of her had hoped for a more epic adventure, somewhere far off and strange and wild. Ah, well-- the High Priestess supposed that Ja'rish was strange and wild enough in it's own right.

She was here to follow a lead one of her people had recently picked up regarding some information on the missing Stones she was so keen on finding. Miss Eyre didn't usually do this sort of thing-- she was a noble, after all, and accustomed to letting others do her dirty work, but as it happened this lead had come from one of her own class. An aristocrat, as it were, though of what was called 'new money' instead of old money, like the family she'd come from. She certainly could not bully this person out of his information, if there was actually anything at all-- of which she was quite dubious-- but she knew that a personal visit from someone of her station had a way of opening people up...especially with her charming veneer.

Unfortunately, however, Ja'rish had changed quite a bit since she'd lived there as a child, and even then Ekaterina Eyre had not been one to navigate her own way around the place. Now, however, she had insisted upon coming alone, but was realizing that finding this person she was looking for was more difficult than it had at first seemed. She would have to ask a local for directions; fearlessly, and with the innate arrogance of a woman who was not only noble by birth but was probably one of the greatest sorcerers in the country at the moment, and backed by the power of the Earth Stone.

Still, she was as sweet and cloying as ever a beautiful woman could be. "Ahem-- excuse me! You there, my dear-- excuse me! Would you mind helping me for but a moment?" Her blue-grey eyes and candied smile beamed down from astride a beautiful bay mare, Gringolet. The woman's elegant dress but comfort in the saddle made it obvious that though she was a noble, she was not of the dainty, breakable variety. In fact, though her hands were covered in thin white gloves, she gripped the brown leather of the reins tightly, holding the sometimes high-strung horse well in place.

[Willow]

Willow sighed as she left the inn, resisting the strong urge to bash her head against the wall in frustration, then head to the nearest tavern and antagonise a few easily-riled up drunks whilst getting drunk herself. Her willpower only just held.

‘Another wasted lead,’ She cursed silently as she paced down the streets of Ja’rish, not really going anywhere specific as she let her mind wander. ‘I paid half of my remaining money to even get the damn information, as well.’ Mentally, she counted what cash she had left, grimacing at the low amount. It looked like she’d either be spending the night as a wolf or in one of the more dubious accommodations of the town. Yes, even the aristocratic Ja’rish had them; every town did. Staying outside and sleeping in her own fur coat was more appealing, by far. It would both save her money, and avoid undesired encounters. It wasn’t that Willow couldn’t take care of herself – she was willing to bet she could out fight or out think most of the occupants in said worrying parts of Ja’rish, but she’d rather not have to scrap for the right to an undisturbed night, in a room with a lock.

At the rate Willow was going, the person she was hunting would know she was after him by now, and she knew it. It wasn’t as if she was hiding the matter; if anything she wanted him to know. He’d know she was alive, at least – and if it didn’t lure him out one way, it would lure him out the other. To check, or to kill. Either way, Willow had a waiting game on her hands, and hated her lack of patience.
‘If only he was easier to find, dammit!’ Willow cursed again, her expression sour as she contemplated starting a street brawl, just to be able to punch something.

At that point, an irritatingly sweet voice broke through her dark contemplation, earning the owner an equally lethal glare.
‘Now, now, no need to take it out on innocent people,’ Willow’s responsible side chided, drawing another sigh out of the dark haired young woman.
Fixing her face into a less hostile expression, Willow approached the woman who’d called her, taking in the noble attire and air, from the perfect blonde curls to the proud horse on which the woman was seated.

‘Innocent rich people,’ Willow automatically corrected, her responsible side instantly shutting up, though her face and eyes remained utterly neutral as she answered the woman.
“What is it you need?” She asked, keeping her tone respectful whilst avoiding giving the woman any titles. ‘Miss’ would probably sound too common to the lady, and Willow just found ‘ma’am’ annoying. Reminded her of another noble lady she’d worked for a few months back when she’d been strapped for cash. Most annoying, condescending old biddy you could ever have the misfortune to meet. Willow was still trying to forget her, and failing miserably.