nexus_crossings | Why people don't like spirits

The weather has been irritatingly unpredictable this year. Sunny one day, a blizzard the next. It's almost impossible to plan for. Today Reynard has made sure the Nexus is smothered in a thick blanket of snow, and it's nearly perfectly smooth. The Nexus might as well be a different landscape. It's hard to tell what a person is stepping on until they take the chance to wade in. Bins, boulders, benches, street curbs are all probably the most normal things a traveller might find themselves cracking shins and toes against.

At a very strategically chosen point however, some poor people find themselves in a bit of a bother. After getting this far all it takes is one step and they find themselves chest deep in the snow. Struggling will only testify to how packed tight the freezing blanket is. Digging themselves out might be possible, but slow.

It doesn't take long before a sing-song voice comes through the air.

"A house for a five headed creature,
A tool that carves rock and earth,
A measure against misadventure,
A gift often owned from birth."

Reynard walks on top of the snow with his usual confident stroll. He crouches in front of his unfortunate victim, tilts his head and asks, "What am I?"

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Far from laugh at her, Reynard stays stock still and silent until she answers. Her answer is met with a smile and a gentle, "No. Close, but no."

Her ears droop a little, oh phoney. Well least he didn't look mad or about to cast anything nasty at her. Least she hoped . " is there a set amount of guesses or anything like that?" She asks and thinks. She didn't like being stuck like this too long but if she couldn't wiggle her way out.

Plus she wasn't sure if the snow wasn't rigged or something either. Let alone how he'd react to anything else she might do. And she didn't want to make enemies if she didn't have to. For several reasons. Besides she rather have friends and allies. Especially in a strange place. Or one like this.

Not only guessing, but guessing multiple times? What a good sport. He shakes his head slowly and then smiles at her. "No. Guess as much as you like, my dear. I've got all the time in the world."

She twitches her nose slightly half in thought, she usually liked games but more in warmer quarters. She puffs out a breath. And wiggles her toes and fore paws to keep circulation going.

She hums and looks the fellow over. mayhaps there was some sort of clue she could glean. It was worth a try anyway. data data data. She heard the manta in the back of her mind in the dulcet baritone of her dear friend.

Reynard watches her patiently. Still in a crouch, unconcerned by staying so still while he waits. Dressed head to toe in clothes from his world's past, he certainly stands out. Luckily for him the leather of his gloves, coat and boots and, more importantly, his feathered hat, all work wonderfully with his mischievous grin, dramatic beard and the playful glint in his eye. That none of it is particularly warm doesn't seem to bother him, unsurprisingly.

She tilts her head from one side to the other. She did like the scent of leather and it was popular back home. Though yes warmth would be key and well sought for. She felt like she was missing..something..probably something simple but what she wasn't sure what.

She tries to stay slightly annoyed on principle, {nope no smirking back no.} She thought sternly as she felt her lip twitch at the right-hand corner. What was it with these mischief-making boys? {is naughty not foxy, sprite no rewarding bad behavior no. }

"Ain't ya cold?" She asks softly, slightly curious. and also Intel.

"To the touch, most certainly, but it doesn't bother me. I find it quite pleasant," he tells her with a cheerful smile.

She hums softly and nods, "Ah I see." She murmurs with a slight tilt of the head and a wry eyebrow. "like Queen Elsa of Arendale?" She asks with a slight twinkle in her eyes.

Reynard tilts his head in return, but when she leaves him with that question he shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "Who is that?"

"oh, ah she's a good-hearted but young and sometimes melancholy Queen back on my homeworld that has ice and related sorts of powers, she used to have a time controlling them. But the cold doesn't bother her either." She murmurs, "I believe the Disney company did a highly popular movie based on her exploits recently." She should check and see what the library had in that area at some point. ooh a movie night. She pondered the sudden idea and tucked it away for later.

But right now there was the matter of the riddle and this snowy trouble. She rubbed her forepaws together.

Reynard raises an eyebrow. He wonders if that reminds him of someone he knows, or whether he's just remembering old fairy tales. "She sounds like an interesting woman…"

She hums softly, "Aye, tis. had to help negotiate a trade agreement there once. She was very congenial from what I saw of her. " She informs him warmly. "oh how bout Crown?" She guesses again.

Her answer pulls him from his thoughts about this queen. It takes him a minute to refocus on her. "Crown? No."

She makes a soft sound and nods, rubbing her chin again. "Ah, well It's a very lovely kingdom.. could get rather brisk some times though. I'm sure you'd like it. " she murmurs warmly, "there's fjords and ice capped mountains.. and reindeer. I love reindeer. " she states gleefully. " there's Er living snow creatures as well. "

"Living snow creatures," he repeats slowly. "What kind of living snow creatures?"

She hums, "hmm, simple ones mostly, snow men and such. " she informs him warmly.

His eyebrows shoot up. "Living snowmen?" He exhales slowly and shakes his head, muttering, "Well that sounds creepy, even for me..."

She blinks and softly clears her throat, " well their more child like then anything. " She informs him. "She was dealing with the after effects of trauma when they we're made.. subconsciously I think. Except for Marshmallow whose her sort of body guard. " She tries to gently explain.

Feeling a slight need to defend the girls of Arendlle. They were only a little younger then her but still being orphaned and having all those responsibilities on top of being isolated and or scared of losing control and hurting people.

Now, Reynard loves children, but the thought of sentient snowmen with childlike personalities still doesn't sound reassuring. Especially if one is meant to be bodyguard.

He inhales deeply and raises his brow in a thoroughly sceptical expression before he moves on. "I see… Any more guesses?"

She nods and then ponders, "er um.. a fist?" She tries again. wondering if she's missing something obvious. She tries to carefully slowly move a little trying to get comfy without getting more snow on herself or stuck worse. She splays a paw out and tests it carefully on the snow. She knew in some climes wolves had adapted to such weather. But she was more of a forest wolf.

He doesn't move to stop her, nor does he move to help her. He simply focuses his attention on the riddle and her attempts to answer it. "No, no not a fist."

She twitches her nose and tries to put a little more weight on it.

She hums half in thought. flexing her paw and then the other.

Why people don't like spirits

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