Korra

thrilling to think, poor child of sin - it was the dead who groaned within

Solitude. It had consumed her, it had comforted her, and it had healed the wounds upon her scarred hide. The long, dark winter shadows had become a part of her, no longer clearly distinguished from her russet frame, but rather a fluent extension to her languid silhouette. The savage had drifted far from her former herdmembers, coming and going as she liked, but there was really nothing new to that – her ways had always been unpredictable. Long hours had been spent, pondering; she had been failed, first by the Crux and then by her Liege. Was it really worth her time and effort to follow someone that would up and vanish from one second to the other? It was weakness, in her eyes, for a leader to abandon his flock in the face of rough times. Therefore, it was with certain reluctance in her spirit that she set course for the Frozen Arch. A meeting had been announced, though not to her personally, she had picked up on the word from her place in the shadows.

Sturdy frame plowed through the snow with determination, golden gaze set on the designated location, wind biting at her rough tresses as she moved along. Her winter coat left her shaggier than ever, with a small beard growing under her chin and feathering down her pillars, moss hanging in garlands between her antlers. The snow below her seemingly glowed, causing her gold-tinged markings to glisten, even under these overcast skies. The wildling slowed deliberately as she approached the cave, striding languidly into the darkness. It was no surprise that she was late, quite the opposite, it was a statement. You can’t boss me around, mare. The Crux would have to regain her respect, prove herself to the little savage, if she was to remain loyal to her reign. Korra was a soldier, not a leader, she never desired to lead; but she desired a strong leader that she could trust blindly, as was often needed in battle.

Sure-footed, she walked into view of the gathered, the sound of her hoofbeats resounding as it was reflected off of the smooth walls, announcing her arrival. She halted, brown globes taking a quick glance at each of the present in turn, face kept thoroughly neutral. Mauja’s brat of a daughter had brought along another lapdog, which she noticed with disapproval to be a hornless. Why she would bring such along to a Plague meeting was beyond her, but being the boss’ kid obviously meant certain privileges. The Moondoctor was there as well, a figure that she had come to hold in high regard, but she was not absolutely thrilled that he and Kou had brought along their daughter. Children had no business at a meeting like this, in her optic. Then again, if Korra had any say, procreation would be strongly limited. Eyes flicked over the Nurse, the bay stallion Descaro receiving a nod from her as the only one present. There were two others, strangers to her that she barely cared to look at, before turning her attention to the Crux.

The black mare was preaching, all the while the antlered barbarian stared at her with reservation in her eyes. She did not speak, there was no need, fuzzy lobes slanted backwards slightly in the general discomfort of being part of a group. She had never shared the same understanding, the same loyalty with Psyche as she had previously with Mauja. She doubted she ever could, but she spoke none of it.