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Ophelia felt the chill of the northern wind dim as she wound her way down from the Frostbreath Steppe. The stone had shattered, gathering pieces of sparkling dust into her mane and tail with a sense of increased power. She wanted to test them out but knew that the time was too short to hone her new abilities. The hour was growing close in which her band would be tested. Together they would attempt to claim a small and lethargic herd as their own, and she could only hope that they would succeed. Failure not only meant a future left in the deep forest that would no longer contain their numbers, but it would set a precedent for the Grey and their abilities. To fail meant that they were not worthy of their titles and status. To fail meant that they were ineffectual.
The alabaster mare steeled her heart then and tucked her compassionate nature carefully in a corner. War was no place for mercy; no place for the gentleness that had already been damaged to come crashing back in her face. With every step taken, she felt her lungs expand, the emotions settling beneath a surface of action and reaction. Tinek felt this change within his bond mate and responded accordingly. The young dragon, vibrant, playful and rather dramatic affixed a grim expression on his face and flew with purpose. Ophelia was preparing herself for the future, and he followed suit.
Would Kri come? she wondered. The mare had promised them warriors, but would she follow through? Ophelia had faith that she would, but the questions always lingered, a doubtful hesitance. Would their opponents have gathered substantial numbers? Such time had passed since Aaron escaped their grasp, and she wondered if an army larger than she anticipated would arrive - though what unsettled her the most was the thought of her father there, the look of disappointment in his eyes. The sheer thought of that expression being directed at her personage as she was trying to do the best for her band would be crippling.
How much resentment would she draw from the other herds? Certainly Kri did not mind, but the others? She did not want to burn so many bridges that her band of mercenaries and spies were no longer considered neutral, but with their chosen homeland crumbling they had no choice. The options before them were death by starvation or forcing everyone to disband and find other homes to sustain their actions. Certainly they would understand?
Most likely not. And so she traveled from the north, the Sun rising to greet her. Whether he listened or not, she cast up a quick prayer to the god who had abandoned her, hoping that he would be merciful. It was, however, more likely that he had his cheeked turned to their plight, uninterested anymore in her comings and goings no matter how violent. Finally, her cloven hooves hit the familiar ground of the Foothills and she saw her sister and the others gathered slightly opposite of her position. She narrowed her eyes from the strength of the rising sun, her strange irises barely visible beneath white lashes.
"Though fighting for your home is honorable," she called out to those gathered, "You may forfeit this fight without bloodshed. Know that choosing to fight against us will result in a merciless battle. Any who wish to leave with their lives and strength intact will not be thought of as lesser - only, perhaps, wise." Ophelia then smiled at her sister and Tinek came to land quickly on her back, peering out at the growing group. "Today is not a day of vengeance, but of survival."
OPHELIA
I have burned my tomorrows and I stand inside today
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