Finally, Genevieve reached the mountains where her and Hanso designated to meet. Smoke billowed from the adjacent forest, the other Sentinels must have begun their attack. What could the ramifications be for her not being present? Would Lord Auron be displeased? If this meeting went according to plan, maybe it would be worth sparing her disobedience. Genevieve secretly hoped that was the case, the alternative was not pleasant to focus on. A small shudder crawled its way up her spine, like someone had run their cold hands along her backside. She vigorously shook the thought away and tried to focus on the task at hand.
The mountains were beautiful, truly a marvel of creation, however they came to be. One of nature’s true success stories mountains were. Created by outstanding pressure and resistance, the mountains shoot forth from the ground, their peaks towering above all else. Though they were not alive, the tectonic plates colliding should cause destruction, yet they cause some of the most majestic visuals on the planet. It was almost poetic when one thought about it.
Laboringly, she made her way up one of the mountain paths, her steps cautious and precise. A spot presented itself, a nearby mountain stream that bubbled forth from a spring somewhere higher up. It was calm, secluded and peaceful. Just the place to put a target at ease and not be anymore suspecting than normal of her ulterior motives. With a small wave of her arm, a small boulder rose from the nearby stream. It was slightly lower than her torso, but it was a perfect size for sitting upon. As it hung in the air, residual water dripped on the lush, marshy ground beneath it, further saturating the surrounding flora. The stone slowly made its way over to Genevieve as she recalled it to herself and settled it with a thud on the ground.
Walking up to it, she gracefully climbed its facade and folded her knees beneath her as she sat. Her eyes closed as she focused her psychic energy within herself. The power was warm and reassuring, like an old friend that was always there when you needed them. With the slightest effort, she began to release it into the world. It seeped out in small controlled bursts, almost like a signal. Which, that was exactly what it was, a beacon. If Hanso was half the psychic she expected him to be, he would recognize her energy and be able to find her. It was an old trick of psychic types, a form of geolocation that was unnoticeable by other non-psychics.
She waited patiently, her breathing slowed as she continued to focus. It was almost as if she was disconnected from the outside world and only existed there in body. Her mind was no longer present, but somewhere more ethereal, almost spiritual in nature. A world only the psychics knew and that was the way she liked it. Without a doubt, Genevieve knew Hanso would come. They always did.