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09-09-2012, 11:08 AM
I was too busy failing at life to get around to this or even starting the next round without Alan. xD Sorry. <3
 They were quite the mob of misfits. Seiren was round and fat, and much as Alan had once appreciated the shady mare and her ghastly ways, the cool, cruel cunning in her mind, she felt betrayed at how she'd branded not only d'Artagnan as a traitor, but poor Alan too. And as such, it was with faint contempt in her amber eyes that her gaze skipped across her and onto the next (if she had been completely honest, it would've been hurt in her eyes, but she could hardly show that, now, could she?). Descaro she knew briefly, or more like helped send him on his way into Isilme, and then he participated in the Sect's flight, something which Alan did to some degree as well. Then there was the giant percheron Lloyd, pale Mauja himself with the witless black pet by his side, and the two social recluses: Deimos, with his long horn and grumpy eyes, and Korra, who looked as interested in this as a dead horse was in food. Alan's leonine tail curled around a black hock. She appreciated what Korra had said to Lotus - hardly being feminine herself, the thought of fighting through her womb was ridiculous. Child-bearing was for the weak and witless. "As if any of those scum can kill me," she snorted, mirroring the sentiments of Lloyd, Descaro and Seiren. And then, Seiren did the unfathomable. Her eyes were glued on the black Percheron and she cooed what could only be a warrior's attempt at flirting. Seriously. Share battle tactics? It was so corny that Alan wore a huge disapproveface. "Not even popped that one out, yet you're flirting with the father for the next? You should go join Lotus, Seiren," she said with a sneer, expecting Mauja to kick her for it. But oh well. It was no secret that neither she nor d'Art got along with Seiren and vice versa.  |
