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01-31-2016, 10:53 PM
He came, streaking like ink across the snow-capped surface, like poisonous oil, spilling out into the kingdom that he ruled and marring every inch, every corner, sullying it for the taste of all but their brethren. Rhiannon did not move, did not quiver or quake with fear like some might when caught in the path of the Reaper. Instead, she leisurely finished her drink, lips damp with sparkling, cold water as a ebony head slowly, gracefully lifted to be held proudly upon an arched neck. Molten, burning gold and frozen, icy silver regarded the Lord as he approached, watching him with blatant keen interest. Seeing Deimos' familiar form only rekindled the fact that she was home, and no matter the distance that she had trekked, the travels she partook in, the murders and pillages and blood she had shed, this would always be home. So long as her own kind thrived in their frozen hell, she would swear fealty to it. He nods to her, an action of knowing, of camaraderie, of brotherhood and alliance, of secrets that could not leave their lips, and a quirked, warped, positively feral grin crosses the brindled devil's maw. There is another, she spies, standing across the lake and watching them like a hawk, judging her, but she pays the silent watcher no mind. Her priority and attention was only for the Reaper. There is some sort of sick, twisted satisfaction that he remembers her name, a pride that she, somehow, shone bright amidst the carnage and bloodshed to force a place in the stag's mind. "Your Lordship," she croons in a likewise greeting, keeping her distance from the Reaper and acquainting herself with her eyes, only. No touching. Never touching. "I have. Many places I have traveled, but none will replace these mountains. I desire to call this place home again, for it has always been my home, and I yearn to serve it in whatever way it needs." To keep it safe, to protect it, to keep this beautiful, frozen treasure free from those who do not deserve it. There were questions she wanted to ask, like the whereabouts of her father, or truly any of her family, but for now the brindled devil would keep her mouth shut. "Have I missed anything of utmost importance?" |
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@Deimos
