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12-22-2012, 02:59 AM
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The behemoth makes no reply, no acknowledgement but the coldly burning shade of his eyes and the impassive strength in his stance, and in a way she is glad. She does not need to hear his voice or see him grovel; she has no interest in his shame, only in his usefulness and ability to get her what she wants. She stares into the fire and she waits, waits for others to come, be they hers or his. Someone will; someone always does, and whether it takes minutes or months she will have her sister returned. It is Kali's tensing muscles that tells her someone is entering the glow of the campfire, someone the gryphon holds no familiarity with. The moonlit mare does not turn to this newcomer, instead letting the scent of the stranger tell a story richer than any she will gain through words. She reeks of Deimos, of some land they must have made their home, of the place where Mirage must now be kept. She stinks of confidence and foul nature, and Rishima's black eyes harden as she awaits the shade's words, ivory tail flicking idly against supple hocks. The gryphon atop her back flexes deadly claws, but does not make a sound. "If I'm not mistaken, asking nicely has not worked in the past." Her voice is dry and void, edged in black humor and a threat - I can play your games. She has heard of the attempt to retrieve Solstice, and how well that worked out. She turns now, and surveys the mare, her side to the stranger and Kali's attention now back to the stallion. Black, with white and feathers in her mane; dim recognition resonates against the mare's mind, but no name accompanies it. She would frown, but the stranger does not deserve that much emotion. Steps are taken, maneuvering, head high and expression blank. She would have liked for Mauja to come himself, or his doctor, but she will take what she can get. She snorts. "I assume you know what I want. Return Mirage here, safely, and I will release him on our borders." She tilts her head to the stallion, but keeps her gaze on this new one. The younger mare's venom means nothing to her, her anger a grain of sand in the desert of Rishima's wrath at her sister's loss. Let the unicorn play, let her whine and wheedle; she is unmoved. ![[Image: RishiRef.jpg]](http://i58.photobucket.com/albums/g240/xaiatora/RishiRef.jpg) |
