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the arena - Nymeria - 11-23-2016 And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
How long ago was it now?
A week, a month, a year? It seemed forever and a day since she'd last stood here, a silent sentinel at the border of Helovia and beyond; she teetered, drawn in by familiar magic and familiar forest. She had long wandered, content to let the malevolence in her heart simmer and settle, and now she was returned—but it felt to her as if perhaps her place here was not as set as it once was.
Don't be so pretentious. A sly and old smile flickered across her lips; she rolled one satin red eye to her little companion circling overhead.
I'm not. I'm telling the truth, the way it is.
Neither of them were particularly inclined to address the sincerity of that particular statement. The two of them had been together long enough—and known each well enough—to recognize the falsity of such a pretty sentence. Nymeria was a fox, a cruel-eyed vixen, whose greatest weapon lay in the cunning of her words and the weaving of true and false. There was nothing black-and-white, no right-or-wrong; there was only what she made the truth to be and her ability to perform in front of the critical crowd.
Now, that time had come again.
She had priorities and plans, of course; but more than anything she was curious where she would wash up, what kind of clever brutes would be coming her way. There had been a waxing and waning of seasons in her absence, and no doubt a waxing and waning in power and authority; it was important, exceedingly so, that she might rediscover her footing before acting on any impudent impulses.
So the two of them delve deeper into the forest, dark silhouettes in a darkening forest, willing and hungry, prepared at long last to return what was once their dearest home. OOC: I know this is short and more than a little shoddy but I'm rather out of practice. Once I get a few posts in I'm sure I'll be more warmed up! Anyone is welcome too! RE: the arena - Tilney - 11-23-2016
RE: the arena - Hotaru - 11-23-2016 these mild days are numbered by the storm that brews within
The snows had driven the prey further south, and with Alice's stomach grumbling with the yearning for larger game, the Valkyrie and her hellbitch had wandered down into the southern wilds in pursuit of meat. The winter snow seemed to mute each sound down to the barest hush, and Hotaru was loathe to break it, sharing her thoughts with the hound's in utter silence. Allowing Alice - who wandered far ahead, nose to the skies and to the earth, eyes as sharp as an eagle's - to hunt at her leisure while she stretched her own legs. The Threshold was not unfamiliar to a woman like her - a leader, a thief, a secretive ghost in the shadows of the yawning trees. She had plucked many a soul from the tender bosom of the doorway without a single ounce of regret, adding them to her fold and flock with a tender smile that covered the wolf's teeth hidden beneath. With Alice off on her own she sidetracked, Arabic lineage meant for thick sand dunes just as adequate in the deep snow, and for once she did not suspect how her twins had ended up so deerlike in appearance and structure. It truly wasn't that abnormal considering their lineage. Even without Alice's ears to aid her own good hearing, she is not blind or deaf to the going-ons of the forest, the voice that calls out softly to another. With a gleam in her eye she shifted, the hush of snow the only heralding sound of her interest, and the Valkyrie went forth onto the field to pursue the warrior spirits calling to her. One is a stranger - a stallion, fair and handsome, and her eyes glaze over him appreciatively for a moment for she is a collector of all things beautiful and strong - but the other is far more interesting in counterpoint. In face a soft noise of surprise escapes her normally masked face, and she whickers low in greeting to the girl who has grown so much since Hotaru had saved her from the mountain lion that had sought her flesh. "Nymeria," she greets quietly with a reserved smile, one that is sincere, and because of that small. "You've grown up beautifully," she compliments, and her eyes gleam with the private knowledge and faltering familiarity between the pair of them. Wonders if the lass even recalls Hotaru at all, for how young she'd been when the traumatic incident had occurred. But then her head cocks and, quieter, asks a more important question: "Are you well?" It had been many years since Hotaru and Confutatis had last encountered one another - but Hotaru had never held that against Nymeria, and she would not now. But she privately wondered, almost sickly curious, if Nymeria took after the World Eater now that she had grown into her bones and beauty. At last she spares a glance to the stallion, polite and warm all at once. "Greetings, I am Hotaru, Lady of the Basin. May I ask your name?" She could not leave him feeling unwelcomed, after all. RE: the arena - Valdís - 11-24-2016
RE: the arena - Nymeria - 01-15-2017 And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
Nymeria is not hungry, tired, nor ambitious; she lives in a state of being separated from the afflictions of flesh and desire, rejuvenated by her long absence. It is with presumptuous pride that she walks—her hips ever swinging, her mane ever in coquette perfection—and with a heart that is almost light. For at long last she has achieved that freedom from which she was suffering in her efforts to find; a freedom that permits her to fight what she wants, to be who she wants, to create and destroy for herself instead of brother, mother, and blood.
Her dragon smokes, smoulders, flame licking around his nostrils. (Stop being so pretentious.)
And to that she is tempted to laugh—but she refrains from such outward expressions of joy, declines from happiness. Determination. Steel. That is what she is made of; that is what she shall be.
The first vulture to flock to her is gold and flax, with bone antlers clawing at the air and a shoulder consumed by tree branches. He is, in a way, majestic (but frail, unlike her, she who is solid, rotund, hard bone and corpulent curves.) Nym’s dragon dances, wings flashing, and drifts away from the bat that eagerly approaches. No longer is Lil a hungry fool who’d bite at a potential friend, but he has eaten bats too many times to see Tilney’s companion as anything else but meat.
Nymeria feels that this is a clamor for attention, this stallion courting her affections; her nostrils flare and cusp delicately as she turns hard scarlet eyes upon him, a wolfish smile to appear on her lips. “Hello,” she offers in polite greeting, “and that is exceedingly thoughtful of you, but I’m alright.” For the scarcest moment there is a terrible and old venom that glints beneath her courteous veneer, reminiscent of a black widow or vixen or viper. Then it is gone.
Footsteps, quiet; ears swivel and twist, catching a newcomer’s greeting. Nymeria shifts her gaze to settle upon Hotaru, a faintly familiar face and a recognizable voice. She remembers—a whirlwind of fur, claws and blood, fury and desperation. (A guardian? A savior? One of the many meaningful and yet pointless interactions between adult and child?) It is only fair that Nym offers her a smile.
“It’s taken a long time,” she says, her voice in velvet hush, “but I think I am finally doing well.” It is a personal statement (in an almost intimate way), an invitation of sorts.
A scathing voice in her head—she wasn’t asking for your fucking life story Nym—but the mare shakes off her companion’s condescension. Why don’t you focus on making that filly feel welcome, Lil?
@Tilney OOC: This is so fucking late and I'm not sure I have an excuse but I hope you guys can forgive me <3 |