Patience is something Zofia's cultivated over time. Stillness has never been. Oh, she can simulate it if she has to, but when magic is breathing, more or less, it's difficult to stop things from happening around you, however unwitting.
Right now, even simulation's impossible. She goes to sit, but taps her nails on the back of her chair instead, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The air churns, twists in on itself. No matter how deeply Zofia breathes, it doesn't stop.
It will when this is over. It will once the Grail is hers. Nothing else should trouble her.
She remembers the motorcycle tracks in the snow, and her fingers tighten, nails scratching the wood beneath them. That stupid young man. Well, there's no need for him to trouble her. At this rate, he's going to get himself killed sooner rather than later, and it's nothing on her conscience.
The air hums, and Zofia looks up sharply, her hand slipping from the chair. "Archer?"
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Date: 2013-05-07 08:09 pm (UTC)Right now, even simulation's impossible. She goes to sit, but taps her nails on the back of her chair instead, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The air churns, twists in on itself. No matter how deeply Zofia breathes, it doesn't stop.
It will when this is over. It will once the Grail is hers. Nothing else should trouble her.
She remembers the motorcycle tracks in the snow, and her fingers tighten, nails scratching the wood beneath them. That stupid young man. Well, there's no need for him to trouble her. At this rate, he's going to get himself killed sooner rather than later, and it's nothing on her conscience.
The air hums, and Zofia looks up sharply, her hand slipping from the chair. "Archer?"