#the_ice_cave

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The upstairs is quiet - weekday, after all.

It's quiet. Good. Best time to head down to the kitchen for a 3-course-snack, Redcap style, with no one to judge your peanut-butter-and-cheddar sandwiches or try to make small talk. Booted feet are surprisingly quiet as she moves down the hall, past the Ice Cave.

Not -that- quiet, it seems - the door cracks. "Miss Maus?"

Her head snaps around to peer at the door, surprised if not startled, as she steps over. "What, decided not to go on walkabout after all? Smart move."

Zara's face is dull, lead grey eyes sliding to avoid meeting the pooka's. "Yeah, guess that's it. I'm sorry. Wanted to give you it back, yes?"

Her eyes narrow a bit - thoughtful. "What, not going to have me in? I don't shed."

She opens the door the rest of the way, allowing the pooka entry.

(Is there anything about her to betray that they did make the trip? Disheveled clothing/packs around, dust/dirt from the travels, a lingering glamour from the dream visit?)

Zara's pack is dumped on the floor by the bed, partially disgorged. Ice's, too, is likely somewhere.

The bed is unmade - at least half, beyond the "laundry wall"

Zara's hair is unbound and rumpled - likely -she- had been in bed not long ago. She pads over on bare feet to pick up the neatly folded jacket from the bedside table.

Whiskers twitch as she sniffs the air, eyeing the mess. "Sloppy. So, what then, planning to try again later? Or just chalk it up as a bad idea all around?"

"Master Hirim is back. Waste of effort, he was on the path home."

(I guess that is... true!)

"And the other one? Leaning against a wall, out of the way as she observes. "Whole lotta effort just for an old couch."

"Doesn't matter. He found her. She's staying."

"Works for them."

"Hrm." She watches Zara for a moment longer. "And that's that? No... stay for a visit, catch up on old times, meet the missus?" A hint of a smirk. "Like to see you explain which of the ducklings trailing you is yours."

The pale sluagh sits back down on the bed, slumped against the headboard. She shrugs. "Hirim saw her, came back. Says she has her craft, gets to do all the work she wants. Wouldn't..."

"He was trying to make it sound, you know, better. Why save a snake from a viper pit, vershtay?"

"Didn't want to go have a look-see of your own?"

"Doesn't matter."

"For something that doesn't matter, you're sure letting it drag you down. I can tell you that a cinder block doesn't weigh shit, but it's still gonna break my foot when I drop it." Pragmatic.

"I guess, yeah. So. Sorry to waste your gift."

A flick of her tail. "It weren't no gift. It your birthday? Maybe, but if it was, I didn't know it and didn't get any cake. A loan, is all." A shrug. "So he tells you she's settled there, and you're not gonna go check it out yourself? Everyone has their own motives. That's nothing new. But maybe your old coot ain't got the right of it. I'm surprised. Would one of the plucky adventurers in your beach reads just give up? That ain't gonna sell books, make sequels, get some made-for-teevee-movie bank."

"I'm not some plucky heroine, yeah?"

"No, but beggers ain't choosers. Am I?" A snort. "The important thing is, get the job done. So you show up, and whosit in the tower doesn't want to go home. At least you KNOW and don't waste your life on chewing on whatifs and maybes. Because way I see it, you ain't any closer to when you started." She examines a hangnail, chewing at the edge of her finger for a moment.

"Lemme ask you - what'd you go in there for, anyways? Forget the couch. Did you want to Knight Up and bring the princess home? Kill the monsters and loot the castle? Or just find answers? Because it doesn't really look like ticked any boxes, from here."

"Dunno. Thought... duty, maybe? See what she was like, maybe?"

"Whatever. Don't want her. Like Hirim says, she's got her work for the snakes, got her pet chimera, she's all made her choices. So, fine."

"And of course this is so. Because he says, eh? And he ain't got no reason to want to keep you away from peekin' in further, like?"

"Hirim lies about everything."

"Everybody lies. Except me, when I ain't got nothing to gain for it. So you get spoonfed a dose of what you admit ain't like to be sugar, and you'd just gonna swallow it down and give up?" A frown, disappointed. "I thought maybe you had some claws, after you ripped 'em a new one for trying to bubble-wrap you."

"Ice wants to go back. But it's stupid. "

"Just like this whole thing was dumb, getting everyone geared up. He was already on his way back."

"Hey, ain't my circus, ain't my monkeys. Just sayin' - you go in to do a thing, get told it's not worth it by someone who lies t'you, and give up without bothering to find out for yourself? I know y'all like secrets, but didn't think it was on both ends. You need to ask yourself what you want, and not let someone else tell you." Reaching out to take the jacket, shrugging arms into it. "When you figure out what that is, let me know."

Zara glares at the cuff of her hoodie, picking at a lint ball. "Want... want to stop being jerked around, I guess. Lie to myself, yeah? Think I got what I don't"

((byeee))

(pause) - UNPAUSE!

"You don't get to just decide you want respect. Don't want fucks yanking your chain, telling you what to do, where to go" *Leaning in a bit closer, teeth bared just a touch, over-large and chisel-sharp. "WHO you are?" She pulls back, shaking her head. "Figure that out for yourself, then don't let anyone else forget it."

She shrugs, closing her eyes. "I get why I'm not respected."

A huff, and she seems about to retort, but then her head tilts to one side, ears pricking slightly. "Enlighten me?"

"I got nothing worth it, yeah? What do I bring to the table? Sometimes... sometimes I can be a blank slate, maybe. Like Earl see some.. some damn fair-haired fairy-tale princess, or... or, like. Hirim sees what he's got left of Miriam. Poor substitute, but worth mollifying, I guess."

"I'm no proper sluagh, I know that."

"I could tell you as much. Anyone here could. To be a proper sluagh you have to curse and glare and stomp around. Or flinch and hide and and hobble about. Ain't like there's a pooka in this place that does anything but laugh, jest, and party, or any trolls that are good for anything but grunting and swinging. Proper ain't shit. G'wan ahead, sulk and be angry - what happened sounds shitty, yeah. I ain't telling you to just pretend nothing happened. But eventually you gotta decide if you're gonna get up and wash off or just wallow. I know where there's a hose."

A glance, pointedly, at her wrist. Her empty wrist. "You made me miss lunch." And she slips out the door, not waiting for any response.

((Sorry, workthing))

Zara... listens, without opening her eyes. A dull shrug, a nod, a whispered apology when Pynki leaves.