He does. I could always stick around here if you don’t mind the company, as well.
[ As Jacob speaks, black smoke pours out of him, seeping from his skin, pooling beside him to take the shape of the wolf in question. He regards Solas with bright, intelligent eyes. ]
[ He observes silently as Fedora takes form; initially, his expression is inscrutable, but when he catches the wolf's gaze, the impassive mask gives way to open interest. He stalks forward, slowly, and holds out a hand for Fedora to catch his scent -- the ease in his movements speaks of practice doing much the same in the past. ]
I see he has a mind of his own. The way Dorian told it, I had imagined your Summon to be like an enslaved spirit -- a creature bound to your will. I am relieved to be wrong.
I think what he is and isn’t depends on his summoner, but he and I are partners. Friends.
[ Fedora eases forward with no hint of wariness, pressing his nose toward Solas’ outstretched hand. He sniffs a few times before apparently deciding that, yes, this person is a friend, and nudging Solas’ hand. ]
[ His expression smooths out further, giving way to a small smile, and he obliges Fedora's request. After all, he has always had a soft spot for wolves. ]
It speaks well of your character that given the opportunity to completely domineer another, you instead treat him as an equal.
[ Once they’ve gone, he works on getting a fire going- it doesn’t take much effort and a little magic, and that’s that. He lays a few wards around the camp- a few Illusionist tricks just to be safe- but it’s nothing Fedora can’t guide Solas through.
Afterwards, he sprawls on his bedroll and closes his eyes, reaching for his Summon. He’s still somewhat new to this aspect of their abilities, but he seems to be learning quickly (he seems to be learning everything quickly, but that’s the way of things now. It explains how his grandfather came to be so powerful if Fedora’s mere presence heightened his understanding of magic so). After a moment, he begins to see the world from Fedora’s point of view. It’s not so much that he’s spying, but he usually finds this relaxing, and he could use the distraction. He’s just along for the ride, watching through the wolf’s eyes. ]
[ He moves through the forest near silently, his steps graceful and soft -- the gait might even be familiar, in a way, each step in a careful line as he stalks forward.
His night vision isn't what it used to be, and he calls forth a few wisps to light their way -- soft, glowing echoes of spirits, not quite strong enough to coalesce into something more, but simple and playful, in their own way. They dance and flit around his head like fireflies, and he smiles at them fondly, nodding his thanks. ]
I hope you will not fault me for my being out of practice. I imagine I will seem like a newborn halla finding his legs, to you.
[ The words are spoken fondly, as if to an old friend. Fedora reminds him more than a little of the spirits of which he is so fond, and that he takes the form of a wolf is another source of comfort.
A twig snaps ahead of them, quiet and barely there. A rabbit, perhaps. Solas stills, crouching down. He lowers his voice. ]
[ Fedora is old. Older than the world itself, and he finds something familiar in Solas, though he doesn't know just what. But he likes the elf well enough, and pads along in companionable silence.
He chuffs with good humor at the mage's remark- he's sure Solas will do fine- but the sound of movement ahead makes his ears perk and his posture tense.
It is s rabbit, he can smell it. He casts Solace a glance, nodding once, and slipping through the brush, near-invisible in the dark. If he wanted, he could turn to smoke, envelop the smaller animal and end it before it knew something was wrong, but he did want to stretch his legs. When he gets close enough, he lets out a growl.
The rabbit bolts, and Fedora bounds after it.
To say he didn't enjoy chasing it down would be a lie, and a short while later, he pads back over, the rabbit dangling from his jaws. He offers it to Solas. ]
[ He adds with a wry smile, ] The growling might have been a bit much, however.
[ He ventures further into the woods, the wisps trailing and preceding him, and when there is the soft rustle of movement -- the telltale whisper of leaves and dirt -- Solas again crouches. This time, however, he stalks forward silently, spotting another rabbit in the dark. It notices the wisps of light and tenses, ready to bolt, but Solas extends a hand, reaching into the Fade. He warps reality, shooting out a pulse of force, and the creature dies a quick and painless death.
He returns to Fedora, both rabbits in hand. ] Not quite as flashy as your hunt, I fear. Come -- we should return to your friend.
[ He pats the wolf on the head as he passes, leading the way back to their camp. Even after all this time, he still remembers these forests well, would wander them when he previously took up residence in Skyhold. He's heartened, at least, to know that not all things have changed.
Fedora dutifully guides him through the wards Jacob has placed, though Solas pauses here and again to examine them. When they return properly, Solas offers an approving nod. ]
[ By the time the wolf and the mage return to camp, Jacob had already disentangled himself from Fedora's senses and can be found sitting by the fire. He's certainly less anxious, though he's beginning to think Solas might be right about all the horseback riding catching up to him. ]
I deal mostly with things most people aren't supposed to see. I learned pretty quickly how to hide things.
[ He takes a place beside the fire, pulling a knife from his pack to properly clean the rabbits. ]
Charlie had mentioned the magic of your world is kept hidden from the non-magical population. I admit, I find the need for secrecy appalling, though I do not pretend to know the ways of your world.
Truth be told, I’m a relative newbie to the whole magic side of things, but I could at least understand how coming to the forefront now would cause more problems than it solved. Why the secrecy started in the first place, I don’t know.
It works out well enough for everybody, at least. Well, provided that some of the more powerful communities get their heads out of their asses. [ coughwizardscough ]
I’m all-too aware. [ He cants his head towards Fedora. The Summon lay curled next to the fire, head resting on his paws. ] Fedora used to belong to my grandfather. His was not a pretty legacy.
[ He hums, placing one of the rabbits on a spit. ]
I am sad to say I have seen the type, in my travels. Those with far more power than they deserve, who wield it like a blade to be used against everyone who would oppose them. More often than not, they thankfully earn their just rewards.
His hubris caught up to him, in the end, but now when people find out I’m a Randall, they’re liable to act as though I’m going to smite them at any moment. It’s been… an interesting transition.
[ One of Jacob’s eyebrows slooowly arches. ] In some instances, but I try not to lean on it too much. I’d rather avoid being associated with my grandfather.
[ Difficult to do when they share a last name, of course, but he tries.
As for Solas’ question: ] I… well, he seemed to have respect for what he is, and what he could do, but a Summon is what their summoner needs them to be. My grandfather desired a killing machine, a magical strong arm, something to do what it was told. That’s what he got.
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[ As Jacob speaks, black smoke pours out of him, seeping from his skin, pooling beside him to take the shape of the wolf in question. He regards Solas with bright, intelligent eyes. ]
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I see he has a mind of his own. The way Dorian told it, I had imagined your Summon to be like an enslaved spirit -- a creature bound to your will. I am relieved to be wrong.
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[ Fedora eases forward with no hint of wariness, pressing his nose toward Solas’ outstretched hand. He sniffs a few times before apparently deciding that, yes, this person is a friend, and nudging Solas’ hand. ]
I think he’d like you to pet him.
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It speaks well of your character that given the opportunity to completely domineer another, you instead treat him as an equal.
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Since you two seem to be getting along so well, go on ahead and see about dinner. I can finish up here.
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We will be back momentarily, then.
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Take your time.
[ Once they’ve gone, he works on getting a fire going- it doesn’t take much effort and a little magic, and that’s that. He lays a few wards around the camp- a few Illusionist tricks just to be safe- but it’s nothing Fedora can’t guide Solas through.
Afterwards, he sprawls on his bedroll and closes his eyes, reaching for his Summon. He’s still somewhat new to this aspect of their abilities, but he seems to be learning quickly (he seems to be learning everything quickly, but that’s the way of things now. It explains how his grandfather came to be so powerful if Fedora’s mere presence heightened his understanding of magic so). After a moment, he begins to see the world from Fedora’s point of view. It’s not so much that he’s spying, but he usually finds this relaxing, and he could use the distraction. He’s just along for the ride, watching through the wolf’s eyes. ]
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His night vision isn't what it used to be, and he calls forth a few wisps to light their way -- soft, glowing echoes of spirits, not quite strong enough to coalesce into something more, but simple and playful, in their own way. They dance and flit around his head like fireflies, and he smiles at them fondly, nodding his thanks. ]
I hope you will not fault me for my being out of practice. I imagine I will seem like a newborn halla finding his legs, to you.
[ The words are spoken fondly, as if to an old friend. Fedora reminds him more than a little of the spirits of which he is so fond, and that he takes the form of a wolf is another source of comfort.
A twig snaps ahead of them, quiet and barely there. A rabbit, perhaps. Solas stills, crouching down. He lowers his voice. ]
Would you like to do the honors?
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He chuffs with good humor at the mage's remark- he's sure Solas will do fine- but the sound of movement ahead makes his ears perk and his posture tense.
It is s rabbit, he can smell it. He casts Solace a glance, nodding once, and slipping through the brush, near-invisible in the dark. If he wanted, he could turn to smoke, envelop the smaller animal and end it before it knew something was wrong, but he did want to stretch his legs. When he gets close enough, he lets out a growl.
The rabbit bolts, and Fedora bounds after it.
To say he didn't enjoy chasing it down would be a lie, and a short while later, he pads back over, the rabbit dangling from his jaws. He offers it to Solas. ]
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[ He adds with a wry smile, ] The growling might have been a bit much, however.
[ He ventures further into the woods, the wisps trailing and preceding him, and when there is the soft rustle of movement -- the telltale whisper of leaves and dirt -- Solas again crouches. This time, however, he stalks forward silently, spotting another rabbit in the dark. It notices the wisps of light and tenses, ready to bolt, but Solas extends a hand, reaching into the Fade. He warps reality, shooting out a pulse of force, and the creature dies a quick and painless death.
He returns to Fedora, both rabbits in hand. ] Not quite as flashy as your hunt, I fear. Come -- we should return to your friend.
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Even to Fedora, a creature made of magic, Solas' magic is foreign, and he watches it intently. It's nothing like the power he knows or was born from.
But it's effective, and when Solas suggests they head back, Fedora smiles as only a wolf can smile, tail wagging. ]
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Fedora dutifully guides him through the wards Jacob has placed, though Solas pauses here and again to examine them. When they return properly, Solas offers an approving nod. ]
The spells you have placed are fascinating.
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I deal mostly with things most people aren't supposed to see. I learned pretty quickly how to hide things.
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Charlie had mentioned the magic of your world is kept hidden from the non-magical population. I admit, I find the need for secrecy appalling, though I do not pretend to know the ways of your world.
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The same can be said for anyone in positions of influence. Unfortunately, those in power are easily corrupted.
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I am sad to say I have seen the type, in my travels. Those with far more power than they deserve, who wield it like a blade to be used against everyone who would oppose them. More often than not, they thankfully earn their just rewards.
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[ He glances down at Fedora as he sets the rabbit over the the fire to cook. ]
Is it safe to assume your grandfather did not treat your Summon with the same respect you do?
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[ Difficult to do when they share a last name, of course, but he tries.
As for Solas’ question: ] I… well, he seemed to have respect for what he is, and what he could do, but a Summon is what their summoner needs them to be. My grandfather desired a killing machine, a magical strong arm, something to do what it was told. That’s what he got.
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