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How quickly history is abandoned to oblivion, put to rest with those who forged it. Of course, the lightning child cannot remember such a time herself, but takes pride in her heritage, holding such accounts of her family's deeds dear to her heart. The star-breather Cassiopeia instilled this love of history in her, and made sure young Azulee knew well the chronicles of her ancestors. Her elder sister filled in the more gruesome details, which their lovely mother and her sensibilities would rather have spared. Volterra's words stroke her pride, and she lifts her nose a bit. She rarely shares the stories, guarding them jealously, but his interest seems piqued and so she continues. Her favorite tales are the ones of battles, and she remembers them the best. "I was born when Kri was the sultana, and it was her who led my father and many warriors to the World's Edge to drive out the unicorns, who thought their race superior." Azulee snorts harshly at the sentiment, her voice fraught with sarcasm as she shakes her dread-locked mane out about storm-painted shoulders. "and they retreated to the north, where they remain, as far as I know." Stormy blue eyes drift from her company as she gives said shoulders a slow shrug. She feels as though she's rambling, skeptical of whether he will appreciate this anecdote of long-ago battles and struggles of power nearly as much as she does. "My mother was Diviner. She loved her stories," she explains. She shifts her weight from one hind hoof to the other and watches the stallion's face carefully with a suddenly heavy gaze. They move on to more present matters, and she is thankful for it. As she expected, the Gladiator expresses his desire to test her ability as a fighter. Lightning maiden lifts her posture once again, static sizzling in the crevices of her wings and around her cleft hooves. "Now?" she questions, her voice eager. It seems as good a time as any. At this point she's made her mind up on serving Dragon's Throat—the herd that's been the only place she could sort of call home... And even then it feels like a farce. The young woman grows tired of it, of never truly making a name for herself, and while she prefers never to belong to anything or anyone but herself, she's bored of going adrift through her life. He answers her question as expected. She appreciates his loyalty, but takes it with a grain of salt. She thinks back to the counsel she received in the Threshold. If it is true, that a blind mob and imprudent leader reign over Dragon's Throat, Azulee is uncertain if she will stay. Regardless of where she was born, her family is gone and the only thing really keeping her here at all is a queer sense of sentimentality that doesn't mean much in the long run. She must prove herself worthy of her bloodline, and hone her skills; these are her priorities. "I hope to meet her soon," she says. The next part of her briefing, she's heard before. Perhaps it was monotonous to have asked, but she has been gone a while and it doesn't hurt to be refreshed. She listens patiently, despite growing rather bored toward the end of it. When he finishes, she dips her nose in acknowledgement. "Do you have any assignments for me, Gladiator?" She'd like to begin straight away. i've got your wild-eyed ways. |
my muse died x.x
@volterra
hard mode—HP: 65/65
physical force and magic is permitted to be used on Azulee at any time provided it does not involve powerplay (unless specified otherwise); please contact me before attempting to kill.
please tag me!
