If I Run Will You? {Open}

If I Run Will You? {Open}

Circuta Posts: 100

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Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE

Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None aeolle

10-08-2013, 01:57 AM (This post was last modified: 10-08-2013, 02:00 AM by Circuta.)

It seems the crazed femme has come to the Threshold quite a lot in recent days,
bemusing as it is. The spy, not quite spying at all, yet instead whispering words
into the harks of strangers. A beckoning into the darkness, a
blanket soft murmur. And so she's back. Again.
For the billionth time. It is as it has been, with sol blazing above her
bodice and turning her bones to liquid. Exhaustion, thirst, she wishes the water's
in the Marsh were drinkable. But they were polluted with the bodies of the dead,
poisoned with death's song. If she were to fall into the temptation of allowing the cool liquid
down her throat, she would fall ill, and likely pass on to the underworld. And she would not
allow her soul into the gate's of Hades yet, no, not yet. She has much to live on for,
much to look forward to, and much to gain.

But on this eve, no recruit shall follow her home, for as her charcoal and peach hooves move along the
crust below the sound of Leto reaches her harks. It is a call for her childe, Apollo, and she
wonders of the Edge with curiosity. Do they allow mere children to recruit in the danger's of the woods? Is it not
a threat to the children which hold their futures secure?
As the darkened woman finds Apollo, she pauses. The sun child is not alone,
but he is near a painted canvas and a dappled rose. a white warrior of the foothills, as well.
He gazes with longing towards the rose, and a twitch of the soul pleads with her concious.
No.

Her lyrics seep into the air.
"Apollo. A pleasure to meet you again. Painted canvas, speckled rose, white warrior. I am Circuta."
She acknowledges the others with odd names, though it is a common for the shade to do so. Her behaviour is normal.
Normal.
But the little Apollo gazes towards the rose with such wishful orbs, such hope.
Her sugar-dipped lyrics slide with ease once more.
"Does the young Apollo beckon you forth to his land? I think it would be wise for you to go with his kind invitation. I am certain Leto grows weary of her childe being so far out, and the Edge of the World seeks your presence. Fly now, little bird, It is not wise for you to stay here."
She looks not at the painted canvas, nor the white warrior, and continues to gaze at Apollo and the Speckled Rose. It embarrasses her to steep to such a level as
aiding the childe's recruitment. What would her people think of her now? Interfering with the invitations of another, and yet not being even part
of the aided parties herd land?
"Go."

CREDITS

note: hope you don't mind cir butting in with her two sense !!

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