un: hidden | audio

[matermali]

( cw; drug use—marijuana )

[ The woman's voice that scrapes through the network's channel keeps low and calm, with a vocal fry that is uttered in a distinctly English accent. ]

The dragon of recent arrival, whom I believe to be named Zhaera, wishes nothing to do with us, and so I would suggest leaving her be. Her only concern seems to be in mothering, and the power she wields would be no small thing if she feels the need to defend her nest. Best not to invite her ire when she has yet any cause to make of herself a monster.

She knows even less than we do about her sudden appearance. Perhaps if she did, she would not be so willing to keep to her singular cause.

I should also think that the serpents deserve no ill will en masse unless they become an immediate threat. I'm of no mind to make demands, but perhaps they can be herded into the woods where they can better find the prey they likely crave. A task I am willing to take on should any with the skill wish to assist.

Aurora has given us few choices aside from what we do with these trials presented.

[ The pause that follows is not from hesitation, but a drag that includes a whispered exhale of smoke that remains unseen on the network. Should anyone happen upon where she's seated on a bench near the café and bookstore, Vanessa—in all of her black-laced glory—is smoking a joint.

The rasp softens with her murmur. ]

We are all outsiders, after all.

Comments

[keepgodwaiting]

[ She certainly doesn't expect to get stoned off two puffs. A contact high might be nice, though. Take the edge off of, you know. Everything. ]

Hang on. [ She ticks off questions on her fingers. ] Your home is here? What, to motivate you to save it, I suppose.

And are you saying you grow weed?

[matermali]

[ A soft, husky sigh of a chuckle escapes Vanessa's lips, her eyes glinting with amusement at Johanna's assumptions. ]

Not quite.

[ She takes a slow drag from the joint, holding the smoke for a moment before slowly exhaling. Home. A word weighed heavy in her longing. It was perhaps the closest to a physical home she'd ever had, even if it never truly counted. ]

The house isn't truly here. It's merely a facsimile, a shadow of what was. As for motivation...well, that remains to be discovered.

[ Her gaze drifts momentarily, as if lost in thought, before refocusing on Johanna. ]

And no, I don't grow it. These were part of a supply I kept within the house. A small luxury.

[ There's scarcely a pause before she carries on. ]

But I suspect that you wished to meet so as to ask me something else.