wizard_howell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wizard_howell) wrote2007-07-29 03:14 pm
wizard_howell) wrote2007-07-29 03:14 pm
(no subject)
The sunrise here to the north is a spectacular affair; it finds him at the edge of a pond, contemplating the water's flow over the rocks. Lesson one is learned: nighttime in Strangia is no time at all to be out and about on one's one. It's more than evident that the country as a whole is not only preparing but almost completely prepared for war: things are locked down tightly and friendly faces are few and far between... even to one dressed in the unmistakable uniform of the Strangian army.
It's all right, though. He's learned far more in this one night than the King of Ingary might have hoped for; the work he and Sophie have been doing certainly is both appropriate and adequate. There are strange magics at work in this land: they're as tangible as the water in the stream at his feet. As much as he'd prefer to be home bickering with Sophie over doing too much work or the merits of cooking on Calcifer, he understands why he's here. If Ingary suffers from one thing, it's a false sense of security. Things are far worse than he (or, he suspects, the King) imagined. Everywhere, there are stockpiles of munitions and canned goods and clothing; storefronts have been turned into military effort workshops; anti-Ingary signs grace every street corner.
He's not quite sure what Ingary has done to incur such hatred, but he'd like to understand it. Unfortunately, he doubts he'll have that luxury: there's movement in the distance and so he takes his rifle in hand and stands tall: watching, waiting, listening.
It's all right, though. He's learned far more in this one night than the King of Ingary might have hoped for; the work he and Sophie have been doing certainly is both appropriate and adequate. There are strange magics at work in this land: they're as tangible as the water in the stream at his feet. As much as he'd prefer to be home bickering with Sophie over doing too much work or the merits of cooking on Calcifer, he understands why he's here. If Ingary suffers from one thing, it's a false sense of security. Things are far worse than he (or, he suspects, the King) imagined. Everywhere, there are stockpiles of munitions and canned goods and clothing; storefronts have been turned into military effort workshops; anti-Ingary signs grace every street corner.
He's not quite sure what Ingary has done to incur such hatred, but he'd like to understand it. Unfortunately, he doubts he'll have that luxury: there's movement in the distance and so he takes his rifle in hand and stands tall: watching, waiting, listening.
no subject
Sophie gives him a suspicious look all the same. She'd meant what she said, about wanting to keep an eye on him, and she's not entirely sure she trusts him not to sneak off to do something terribly dangerous while she's industriously wandering through the campsite.
On the other hand, he can hardly leave her trapped in cat-shape while he dashes off, can he? Even Howl isn't that slithery.
[I suppose,] she says, with grudging assent, and then pauses.
[How are we to know when an hour's passed? A cat can't keep a pocket-watch.]
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[We'll have to do our best guess, cariad. I'll tell you what: make the circuit then come back here and I'll do the same. If there are conversations of interest, you stay put and if you're not back when I get here, I'll find you?]
He can't conjure up a kitty-sized wristwatch and even if he could, it would be ridiculous. But...
[At the risk of incurring further wrath, I could put a warming spell on you that lasts an hour, and when it wears off you'll know it's time to come back.]
It would be easier if she'd let him switch back to human form; he'd carry her with him.
Actually, it would be easier if she'd stayed at home. However, this is Sophie, and he knew exactly what she was like when he proposed marriage.
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[And, as you asked, and it does make sense, I'm perfectly all right with it.] If her emphasis is a little heavy, well - she feels it's a point that ought to be emphasized.
[As long as you remember to do the same for yourself - I'm counting on you, Howl. I want your word. I'm not having come all the way here just to lose you again.]
She's doing her best to have the sternness entirely cover up her fright - because any way you look at this, it's dangerous.
And more so for Howl than for her. Wizard Howl is a major player, a known power and enemy of Strangia. Witch Hatter is barely a piece on the board - and here, that's an asset.
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The only problem is to do this, he has to be a human; he shifts back quickly and before Sophie can say a word, casts the spell on himself first, as promised, and then on Sophie and as soon as that's done, he falls to the ground as a dog again.
A very warm dog, in fact.
It's a good spell; they'll know when the hour's done.
[Right, then. You take the south and I'll take the north.] There's a method to his madness; should anything happen, Sophie will be able to escape back to Ingary more readily from the southern position.
There's just one more thing.
[Should anything go wrong, make your way back home to Kingsbury, and to Wizard Suliman. He'll be able to recognize you as under a spell and break it for you.]
He's not expecting problems. But in a war zone, anything's possible.
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She doesn't have to try too hard not to think about the complexities of four legs. After all, she's got something else to focus on - and that is the fact that Howl can say whatever he likes, but the fact of the matter is that she's not leaving him behind anywhere.