Hotaru

Leaving had been the hardest thing Hotaru had ever faced. She had been prepared to stride out onto a nonexistent battlefield, her wit far more powerful and effective a weapon than the muscles upon her challenger, alone and aware of exactly what her mission was. Only, it had not been merely Ophelia that had been there to witness her crossing the threshold of snow and ice, to the world of imprisonment. Her daughter and (lover? Could she call her warrior that now?) had both been present. Seeing the tears held back in her huntress's eyes had driven a stake into the young spy's heart, but pride had sutured the edges of the wound just as quickly to prevent the pain from overtaking her and sending her to tears as well. Because Arya was a strong and beautiful soul, and seeing her stride away so composed and powerful had given Hotaru the strength to smirk in the face of danger and sway her hips down the catwalk of bars and secrecy.

It was way too damn hot, where her guard had sequestered her. So used to the misty lands of the Foothills and the fierce chill of the Basin, the dainty spy was uncomfortable with the pervasive heat that seemed to simmer deep inside her skin. Even so, there was nothing that could reduce her to a state of inelegance, and the Arab genes in her quickly acclimated to the temperature. She danced across the sands on limbs as long and lean as a gazelle. Bichromatic eyes swept over the varying shades of color that the sand and clay mixed into. Hotaru had never imagined the Dragon's Throat, a desert and nothing more, could be so colorful. Then again, many thought a frozen wasteland like the Aurora Basin could not hold beauty, either.

Or maybe that was just their attitude painting the viewpoints of others.

A soft snort of amusement escaped her, and with a satisfying stretch that eased the muscles in her spine, she set off at a comfortable jog. Stamina was her best attribute, one might say it came from her genes as well. She happily frolicked on the sands, assuming the role of a Throat denizen, the actress in her blossoming until it seemed as if she was entirely comfortable in this completely strange land. She splashes her pale hooves through the Oasis, kicking up water and delighting in the rainbow of diamonds that only enhance her beautiful appearance, the light rain of coolness down upon her skin a delightful relief.

Would anyone come to relieve her false boredom?

lady lazarus, i rise