A Good Neighbor [Ranked?/Open]

the Rift

[OPEN] A Good Neighbor [Ranked?/Open]

Circe Posts: 101

Deceased

Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Buff: NOVICE

M.E.

#15

04-24-2013, 08:16 PM

Circe

The heat beating upon the back of the shadowmere was beginning to be tiresome; Circe found herself more and more wishing that they would quite this thirsty place, wanting to be rid of the sand in the frogs of her feet and the cloying scent of feathers that clouded the territory. It seems she had underestimated the numbers of the winged here previously—the place was quite literally swarming with them. Though one brutish sort of warrior left in his obligation to protection and duty, they were still completely overrun with the creatures. As weary as Circe was with the heat, the sorceress kept her vigil and her attention firmly in effect. The Throat were friends, having helped them win their herdlands—but Circe took the warrior’s creed to heart. The Grey didn’t make alliances. They were loyal to themselves, and if there was just the trace of danger, Circe wouldn’t hesitate to let her hooves fly and kick.

"With all due respect, Chieftess…isn't that group much like your Gray?"*

Circe suppressed her snort; turning, she found the azure mare who dared speak such insolent words. Diplomacy was everything, though really, Circe was most offended by the insinuation. The touch of annoyance in the Sergeant mare’s countenance was not lost on the shadowmere; was Circe in the presence of a pacifist? Please-- what childishness.“No,” Circe replied in her husky way, answering such a ridiculous, vexing inquiry in the stead of the Pale Lady, “We are not cowards.” Her expression was empty, yet her tail seemed to weave and curl behind her slowly, a sultry sort of taunt. What is it you are saying, Sergeant? Are we soulless, dumb beasts to you? Do you resent our strength? The shadowmere couldn’t stop the ghost of a smirk from shifting her features. Tough.

*"Will you join as well?"*

Tearing her eyes away from the blue Sergeant, Circe found herself looking into the kind gaze of Ophelia. Her demeanor softened somewhat. “Of course, m’lady,” Circe said, her voice low and sincere, “I’m here to watch your back, and watch your back I shall.” She dipped her head a little, letting her eyes wander and gaze upon the hoard of winged warriors who would be accompanying them. She suppressed a slight shiver, despite the blistering heat. She would be happy to be gone with this place; the shadowmere doubt there would be a haven for her in the stinging oasis of the Dragon’s Throat. She was eager to be rid of this place.