The peahen is bitter as she picks her way through the sun dappled forest, her head bobbing up every time she stretches the skin near her left flank. The hybrid has been travelling for far longer than she ought to be -- meeting Oxy, finding the Falls, and then sparring with the unicorn the day after that -- but she is as dutiful as she is stubborn. As the newest member of the herd residing by the Falls, the ambitious maiden took it upon herself to swell the ranks of her herd, if only to rise in rank. Truth be told, she has no appreciation for herd life, at least not yet, and the only aspect of it that interests the bird is the prospect of gaining power. The vicious maiden has no desire to be considered as just an ordinary warrior, and she will not put up with being ordered around for long. Not that the drunkard has had a chance to do that; the color-stained maiden has kept herself busy without the aid of some Legatus to tell her what to do.
Flicking her feathers in a mixture of annoyance and boredom, the brightly-hued creature enters a small clearing. Her wound has begun to cry in protest, and the haughty vixen rolls her amber eyes at the sharp stab of pain. She wants to blame the grey stallion for her discomfort, but it is truly her fault for sustaining the injury. Just as it is also her fault for maintaining it. Aren't there healers for this sort of thing? Perhaps I should have made use of the resources that are attributed to my herd.
Her thoughts are interrupted as a sombre mass of feathers falls from the sky, and the vixen observes the scene in calculated interest. Although she is slightly concerned for the pegasus, she does not allow it show. Her amusement, however, is plain to see, and sarcasm leaks into her voice.
"Bravo, my friend. I can see that if I am ever in need of an instructor, you are surely the one to approach."
Dark eyes rake over his stirring form as she ruffles her feathers. She notices how he cradles one wing against his side, and deems it useless. He will not be going anywhere any time soon, and she certainly does not feel obliged to help him. Instead of offering her condolences, or perhaps even rushing to his aid, the malignant bird coos, "Just what were you trying to accomplish with that stunt? Certainly not impressing me, I hope." She stomps a hoof as if to showcase her disapproval, ripping at the dry grass that covers the ground. His performance was not all bad, however, and she does offer one small compliment for the tobiano.
"Well, it could have been worse." It really isn't much of a comment, now that the bird takes the time to consider it. She tries again, but this time with an introduction. "I am Bellona, of the Hidden Falls. Who might you be? If not a poor flier, then perhaps a weary traveller?"
The beautiful hybrid lowers her radiant crown in a graceful swoop, and she takes up a mouthful of the grass that she has torn. Her travels have left her famished, and her battle-weary body demands a reprieve before she resumes them.The hair around her head stirs as she raises it again. "Eat. It will help." It is more of a demand than it is a suggestion, and the maiden returns to the task of stripping the earth of its dry brown blanket.
"blah blah blah." @[Gull]
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In the event of an emergency landing...
