Ophelia would be lying if she had said that her crushing defeat beneath Deimos' tutelage hadn't damaged her pride. She was not haughty or arrogant - not truly. At times, she could appear to be rather self-inflated, but usually she was entirely unaware of her actions and perceptions. For as clever as she was, the pale princess severely lacked self-awareness, and this bleeding wound from her ego was clouding her judgment. Two great defeats now lay in her past, and she had the burn marks etched on her hide from both. She felt them as she walked, reminders of her failures and inadequacies, stabbing the knife deeper into her heart. Try as she might to shake these feelings, they persisted, and a rattled breath hissed passed her lips. Fighting, sparring, every season was her idea, and now she beginning to regret her grand plans as her hooves carried her on the soft gravel near the glittering, unfrozen lake.

The sun overhead shined down upon her armored back, and she cast a deep shadow beneath her body – one that she seemed rather content to stare at rather than the horizon. Towering mountain ranges and beautiful, cloudless skies were far too beautiful in comparison to her defeated soul, and she winced, mousy lips curling upward. Today, she would be facing Thranduil – another stallion of powerful report. His reputation trailed in whispers behind him, and Ophelia was unsure of what was truth or lie. She mused that he most likely preferred rumors to be that way, hiding him in the blanket of obscurity. He was clever, subversive, and she would have to consider that in this battle as well.

In some ways they were the same. With her heartbreakingly beautiful smiles, dazzling pale coat and chime-like voice, the feminine princess was a perfect distraction. No one suspected the northern beauty for heinous crimes, especially when she toiled so hard for the plight of good. But that inherent kindness was not just a mask she wore to hide the truth – it was a truth itself. She struggled to reconcile the two halves of her whole, two bloods, two families, two lives, dark and light and love and hate. Split toes danced upon the line, unwilling to fall to either side.

Finally, the pale princess tossed her head, exhaling harshly and narrowing her eyes against the bright light overhead. The sun god’s orb danced pleasantly on her forehead, hanging from her horn, and she turned her elegant face, looking for Thranduil. “Where are you, clever thief…” she murmured beneath her breath, ears darting around like radars to detect any sound that would indicate his position. At least the heat was not blistering here as it was in the desert sands...


[[(0/3) (450 words)
- Midday with a high sun
- Cloudless skies
- Somewhat of a breeze and near the unfrozen lake, so sort of a silty, gravel footing
]]

@[Thranduil]