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For a moment Talbot colors as a flare of anger ignites in his belly: it ignites and then cools just as quickly when, by Maeve's expression, he can tell she is not including him. Then comes a surge of something like chagrin when he realizes she knows at all. He sips his champagne and then nods. "Then we shall meet later in the week. I'll ride to the estate and fetch her. Her guardian ... is wild," he adds, slowly; Iskierka is every bit as combative as Finnavair. "It may be interesting."

The day that Jessica arrives will be one where the courtyard of the Swan is filled with the sounds of Guardians: Finnavair and Lily tussling, banging into the walls and the fencing of the stables, snorting and stomping like two young dogs. Off to one side, Siscalus stands with ears pricked and golden eyes alight, and from the occasional twitching of his sides, and stomping of one hoof, he is considering joining in and throwing his weight around.

Ayle sits on the fencepost, one knee hiked up and bare through a hole in his trousers, and watches: his own blue eyes are alight with the same glow that lights up his Guardian's. He has been working in the Swan steadfastly for some weeks now, and the walls have become higher and higher: he is itching to get astride his deer and ride, but the recent attacks have been vicious enough that he has remained cooped up. He did not attend the party, but he heard.

Siscalus will pause and look sharply towards the door to the kitchens: Talbot is walking alongside a thin slip of a girl, her long blonde hair falling as straight as a pin down her back. At her side trips a deep blue doe, ears fanned and golden eyes alight, suspicious.

Something -- some look, so intense it is nearly tangible -- passes between Siscalus and the new doe. He is staring, and Ayle jumps, having been swept up in the intensity and strangeness of the moment, when Talbot's voice rings across the courtyard:

"Where is Maeve?"

The frostiness of the look earns a snort from the deer, not the girl: if Maeve is correct in assuming that Jessica is a shrinking violet (and she is), Iskierka is not pleased with this estimation. She will step in front of her Chosen, one hoof placed decidedly down into the dirt, and stare up at Maeve with a challenge in her eyes.

She is stilled only by Jessica's long-suffering sigh and the girl's voice: it holds the same up-country accent as Talbot has (though his is greatly diminished). Hers is a voice indicative of schooling and of being wholly underestimated: "Iskierka, it's okay-- oh, for god's sake, you great beast," she says, and pulls her deer back to offer a hand to Maeve. "I'm sorry. I'm Jessica Talbot."

Jessica colors, as would be expected. Behind her, Talbot frowns -- and Janet will miss that, though she might be expecting it. Jessica, who is kept from wringing her hands because Maeve is gripping one, merely stammers out something to fill the silence, "--it's a pleasure to meet you, and this is Iskierka," she says, tipping her head towards the dark doe at her side.

Iskierka, for her part, has ceased her strange staring contest with Siscalus to fan out her ears at Finnavair. And, perhaps to the worry of everyone, she does not step back from that appraising gaze: she stomps a hoof and stretches out taller.

Jessica, flushing, shakes her head, "I'm sorry, she's rather stubborn and fussy, I don't know what's the matter. I'm hoping she won't cause too much trouble," but she's noticed that look. And there is a frisson in the air that suggests Iskierka is about to make a move.

And Iskierka, at the moment where both of Finnavair's feet are off of the ground, bulls forward with all of the power her slim body can muster: directly into Finnavair's chest.

Jessica shrieks.

Iskierka, overjoyed to have someone who will finally stand up to her own personality, shakes her head so hard her ears flap -- a comical sight, if she were not also kicking her heels up while doing so. A moment later she crashes into Finnavair again, with a meaty thud, and then wheels away. Almost bounces away.

Talbot and Cesambre regard this as if Finnavair and Iskierka are two unruly children who have done something wholly embarassing and whose parents are nowhere to be seen. In another instance it might be funny to see straight-laced Talbot, in his waist coat and neck cloth, clear his throat, and to see Cesambre pull her head back and lay her ears back with a look of mild disapproval.

Jessica, looking chagrined, attempts to sink into the ground: "Please."

Cesambre cannot help herself and has to permit herself a chuckle at straight-laced William Talbot, and fiery Maeve: there is a distinct flash of mirth in her green eyes as she watches Maeve sweep Jessica upstairs. She is aware, of course, as Talbot's exclusion, and feels the mild irritation that comes from being the Guardian of the exluded, as it filters down into her thoughts: but what did he expect? Maeve has found another young Chosen to sweep into her net; if Jessica is not careful she will be pinned down like a butterfly onto a board and not allowed to leave.

Cesambre nudges Talbot towards the exit, murmuring something in his ear as the two does roughhouse: "Come now, this is Jessica's time to shine; you trust her, don't you? Besides, it's dinnertime." As if the Swan's food is lackluster: but to a captain used to eating tunny and pheasant, maybe it is.

[FIN]