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Much of her life seemed to consist of walking around, wondering the isles of Helovia like an aimless creature searching for something that was never going to be found. She had realized that her life held no consistency, held no strong bondage that would keep her motivated, but rather simply that she had fallen in a rut. One that's depth matched the stars that glittered on this strangely silent night. It had been a while since the solider(if she could even consider herself that) had returned to her home in the ice capped mountains of the Aurora Basin, avoiding certain people that dwelled within it's frosted forts. To think that she would be let so easily back in the gates was obviously quite unrealistic, her delicate ears undesirably tipping forward to lead her eyes to a gathering that called out for her attendance. When she neared, it was regretted immediately that she followed her childish curiosity. Why, when curiosity killed he cat, did the cat not just take curiosity with him? It surely would make her life so much easier, the bane of it being just that; curiosity. It was true, she avoided Ashamin for reasons that were deemed right in her writings, feeling as if Ashamin deserved more then she could ever offer. So she stayed away, the toxicity of their "friendship" poisonous to the both of them. If it was hazardous, it must not be friendship at all. She tried to not let her eyes linger on the familiar patches of onyxs and whites too long, glancing around to catch the hide of her land's patron. It was then, she realized that Zandora was deep, oh so deep in the abyss of fucked up feelings and fucked up thoughts, that a mortal stole her thoughts before an immortal did. Suddenly she felt out of place, a mere soldier amongst a god, a king, a haurspex, and a few others that she hadn't seen before, but was sure that they belonged. Nearing the black and crimson, she stood by him as she listened to what the night would unfold, a small dip of her nose acknowledged those of one life and many. Words would only leave her mouth if one felt it was necessary to address her. Zandora kept her gaze glossed, never letting the shield of hers crack again, no one was to see the inner turmoil that burdened her. Everyone had their own problems, and Zandora needed to learn how to deal with hers. This world was not one that needed another that had fallen to it's tests, she would not allow it the joy, her father the joy. So Zandora would grit her teeth and prevail, for that's all she knew how to do. OCC: sorry but I just had to sneak in on this one :) |
![[Image: 56a075b49df35]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/56a075b49df35)
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.
