.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
05-14-2014, 07:47 AM
She’s distrustful of strangers, the Lady notices with a subtle curve to her lips, pleased with the intelligence of the dual horned mare even while mildly annoyed that all in this land distrust each other so and that few are well equipped enough to handle the more hardened citizens of the kingdom. Perhaps she is an imposing figure, she ponders, wearing her guise of metal and cloth, her amulets gleaming and impotent; the ones for storing magic were empty, the others rarely thought of as more than adornments to compliment her natural beauty, but surely to others she is a sight that causes slight hesitancy and curbed pride. On most days, she would gloat in this knowledge, that she is a fearsome warrior queen as she has always wished, but today, on the day she had come to be alone and not a pillar of strength among inferiors, it roused bitterness within her. Could she not be treated as normal even among strangers? She returns the sound of the moon mane’s laughter, wondering when this stranger had managed to ride deep enough into the snow’s heart to encounter another who lived there, and her interest in the conversation is instantly engaged. That she has managed to find someone who didn’t know of the Basin quite yet is thrilling – it means that, while she draws reservations from her companion, the emotion she sees is not blind fear or distrust of the racist queen on the mountain. All it is that makes the other look around nervously is her own failings in the art of self defense and Illynx’s obvious pride in self, and it is pleasing. "Beowulf?" she asks, the only number of her kin to be so heavily coated as to deserve the title of Mammoth quickly coming to mind and drawing a playful smile to her lips, "he is quite…insulated, isn’t he?" Her giggle is playful and sweet, such sharp contrast to the notes of her black soul. "I could not live if I wandered the mountains, no, but our valley is well shielded from the winds and steep snows. The Lord of Time perhaps has much to do with our prosperity in such a wintry haven." A short pause fills the air as she glances back towards the north, eyes returning to the other woman with an effervescence as she prods more humor into the conversation. "Either way, I have lost an entire wildcat worth of coat in the past few weeks. You should see what the armor isn’t covering," a humorous shiver runs along her body, as if the sight is horrific enough to create terror in the witness (and while it was surely pretty gross, it was no such atrocity). @[Agrona] There was a river once, with many round stones enchanted by shallow hopes of embracing the ocean; water is peculiar this way, how its life is a line that cannot bend or change without the approval of its bed. |
