Anzanie

Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.

With her little Viserra at her side, Anzanie felt the resentment building up in her that it fuelled something terrible. The hurt. Why wasn't Misael here? She glanced at her daughter, wishing she could feel the love she had felt when her precious cargo had first been born, but the splashed now only felt like the abandoned child of a sweetheart's dream. She left these thoughts in an attempt to gather some sort of brave face, the hurt ripping into her at the thought of Misael leaving her for another. But today was not the day. It felt bitterly cold and the wind around the Edge was helping, thanks to the trees that surrounded them.

She nudged her daughter to carry on, knowing full well that she was becoming almost too old to literally push around but she had no time. It was time to warm up their freezing bodies. She suddenly heard the voices of several, two she did not know and another of her beloved Tembovu, or at least who she perceived to be her Elephant King. An excitement welled in her and she whispered to Viserra in a hurried tone,
"Come, we must see what Uncle Temb wants." Uncle Temb. How fitting...

She stalked with her horn narrowly missing the hanging branches, making sure to poke her cranium to the side of her to make sure that her daughter was still there. Whilst the resentment was great, Anzanie would never forgive herself shoul any harm come to her Viserra. In the moment she was able to spot the gargantuan figure of Tembovu, their king and their almighty, and Anzanie's pools lit up. She quickly rushed over on daggers that rocks and the hard ground to greet him, before seeing the other creatures that were also with him. Both stags, one dignified in his dark splender bearing a horn much like her own with just a bit of coal dust littered over it and the most striking, well odd, brute that resembled more a child's toy than anything. His coat was a stunning ivory but his own horn, daggers and tassles were littered with ruby and Anzanie's nose wrinkled at the smell of something fresh and almost minty. She dipped her graceful splashed cranium once she got her breath back to her king first, with her pools soft as she spoke, "Good day Tembovu, we have guests?"

She glanced at them before waiting to see what was going on, obviously (and as always) late to the most odd of occasions...

" . "