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01-08-2013, 01:45 AM
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The incessant internal grumbling had been plaguing her for days now, and it made her feel quite mad. Of course, she was quite mad, as many would willingly attest. But for whatever reason, on this day, she found that she was more inclined to agree with them than she might normally be. It was not that she heard literal voices, you see, but rather that her own thoughts had begun hosting shouting matches within the rather limited confines of her mind. It was quite loud, and she had quite a headache. She was wandering by the lake that morning, pistons in the gentle blur of a trot, avoiding the muck that tended to linger at the edges of the water and instead choosing the higher ground. It was a cleaner route, to be sure, though the shadow-mare had never particularly cared about cleanliness. Perhaps there was something about leadership that drew her to have pride in her admittedly plain appearance. It would be an odd thing, that, seeing as her childhood had long since deprived her of that particular emotion. As she wandered, her mind roved over this and that: reports of newcomers, flocking to the Basin by day or night, far too many to count; irritation that those held prisoner were not yet returned to her; but no, surely they would not be so important, not when their ranks were growing, not when they would be ripe to take over... "Obviously, we cannot keep the shard; it has brought us nothing but ill fortune!" Well, that was not in her mind, now, was it? It was a hushed voice that had spoken from above, and so above she looked. There were three of them perched, and at first glance she thought that three filthy skyrats had made themselves at home in her tree. A second look wiped the scowl from her maw, replacing anger with her usual emotionless facade. If anything, there was a warmth in her orbs and a devious smile on her lips, though any emotions the trio perceived would be, in truth, false. Perhaps they, as griffons, would see through her illusion. After all, she had never seen griffons before. "We do not know what it is!" a chestnut-colored male snapped, tossing a nervous look to an object wrapped in cloth. "What if this holds something powerful, what if -" A palomino female cut him off. "No, he is right," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "We have lost friends, loved ones, even our nest. All because of that... thing." She, too, looked at the cloth with disgust and fear. The jackal's interest was piqued. "We should give it someone who knows how to wield such power. Perhaps then, we will gain their favor." "I stand alone then." An odd exchange it was, but it also seemed an opportunity to the pitch fae standing below. Craning her neck, eyeing the creatures warily, she voiced a thought of her own. "Well, hello, my friends," her lyrics sang out amiably. "If you don't mind my asking, what do you have, there?" Perhaps she ought to have simply listened; but then, the Dark Empress has never been a good listener. [W/C | xxx] |
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Walk walk walk. |
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