The wind on the sea

[Christine Daye]

She smiles.

"Probably best! She seized praxis recently... and I am sure that her beautiful exterior contains a core of iron! ...hmmm..."

She considers her next question for a long moment.

"...why is a raven like a writing desk?"

[Regulus Grey]

Regulus pauses, blinks once and scratches his chin.

"That..is a question that could be answered in any one of a hundred ways. For one thing..both are made up of matirial that will eventually fall apart."

He shrugs.

"That is rather a question I'm sure you would be more suited to answering."

[Christine Daye]

Christine frowns.

"...but you are Mr Raven... I thought that you might have some special insight... ah well..."

She hums to herself for a moment, sad and lost.

"... yes... everything falls apart... doesn't it...? it all fell down... it all fell down... it all fell down... oh oh-oh..."

She sighs again, and rubs at her face with her gloved hand, visibly pulling herself together.

"... do you think that because I am Malkavian that I have some special insight into the way this world works...?"

Her tone is subdued, tired.

[Regulus Grey]

"And yet, I lack insight into the nature of writing desks I regret to say."

His eyes blink back to Amber and he scans the darkness once more. Fir a moment he seems about to say something else, then stops.

He tilts his head

"I thought it a possibility...but did not want to assume. You have my apologies for my assumption."

He inclines his head to her.

[Christine Daye]

She makes a curious choked sound, caught between a laugh and a sob.

"...I am no Seer... alas... though those who I know who are... well... it seems such talent causes as many problems as it brings solutions... but there is no need to apologise..."

She hums again, trying to calm herself. Her mind full of starlight and moonlight. Red and Black.

...but hey don't listen to me... this wasn't meant to be no sad song... I've sung too much of them before... right now I only want to be here with you... when the morning dew comes falling... I want to take you to the island... and trace your footprints in the sand... and in the evening... when there's no one around....

Then:

"...you had another question? ...or something else to say...?"

[Regulus Grey]

He shakes his head

"Only that I would recommend you allow me to escort you back to the Theatre. You seem tired and rest will not do you any harm."

His hands return to behind his back as he awaits her decision.

[Christine Daye]

"...yes... I have promises to keep... and miles to go before I sleep... "

She shakes herself slightly, trying to come back to the here and now, failing. Her mind is drowning in music, her gaze distant.

...the skies of Lebanon are burning... those mighty cedars bleeding in the heat... they show the pictures in the newspapers... women and children dying in the street... and we're still at it in our own place... still trying to reach the future through the past... still trying to carve tomorrow from a tombstone...

"...yes... back to the theatre... "

[Regulus Grey]

With a nod Regulus withdraws his coller from the pocket of his waistcoat and slips his glasses back into his pocket. Blinking slowly his muscles start to strain and change, he collapses into all fours as the clothing of his body slips through the pores of his skin and white fur replaces it.

The large white wolf looks up at Christine and blinks, then slowly starts to move off in the direction of the Theatre.

[Christine Daye]

Christine follows, humming to herself, empty basket dangling from loose fingers. Despite her air of abstraction, she still moves through the darkened streets like the predator she is.

It's not long before they're back at the stage door. She unlocks it, pauses, looking down at the wolf by her side. Her voice and gaze are distant.

"...good night, Cú... good luck with your hunt..."

[Regulus Grey]

The white wolf inclines it's head and his form changes to that of a Raven. It caws softly and turns to fly away into the sky.