the Rift


[PRIVATE] Your Crown Has Fallen

Lakota the Poisoner Posts: 278
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 15.1hh :: 7 Years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Aodaun :: Polar Bear :: Terrorize Brit
#3
Lakota
The Poisoner


Consciousness comes slowly, for she is tired and wants only to stay curled upon the sand, the blow of the winds unable to reach her past Aodaun's protectively positioned form. Only the heat of the day reaches her, and she basks in it like a stray cat, if only she were capable of purring. But it is Ao's duty to keep watch over her, and when Alleo approaches, he huffs softly in the language native to him, mentally prodding Lakota from her rest. Simultaneously he nudges his jaw against her, urging her up and out of the arms of Morpheus, demanding she awaken in the sweetest way he can manage. She whines under her breath but obeys, deep lilac eyes blinking blearily at the bright expanse that meets her eyes. So much sun, snow, and sand, it nearly hurts to look. What is it, Ao? She murmurs to him where nobody can possibly hear, only for Aodaun's reluctance to answer to waken her faster. What was wrong? Sensing her rising distress, Aodaun calmed her as quickly as he could, murmuring a response rather hesitantly. Fratello, he responds. The Italian strikes her heart so hard it knocks the breath from her in one fell swoop, and her throat convulses nervously as she slowly turns her head to the calling of her name.

Alleo stands far from her, and though it hurts to know he does not trust her, she knows precisely why. She can avoid it no longer. This was a meeting bound to happen. Sighing, she leans against Aodaun and stumbles awkwardly to her hooves, stretching out her left hind leg with a whimper of pain that dissolved quickly into prideful silence. She limps slightly as she strides rather elegantly towards her brother, head high. "Fratello," she calls back. It is a title she hasn't used in seasons, nostalgia echoing inside her bones, memories of a far smaller version of her running on spindly legs calling it out cheerfully as she went crashing into his side. It was more intimate than a simple 'brother', for it is in their native tongue, but she cannot handle saying his name now. Especially not his nickname, not after their last encounter.

"You look well," she says gruffly, for lack of anything else to say. Better than me, at least.

Chunga-Stock


Messages In This Thread
Your Crown Has Fallen - by Lakota - 03-04-2014, 11:50 PM
RE: Your Crown Has Fallen - by Alleo - 03-05-2014, 10:19 PM
RE: Your Crown Has Fallen - by Lakota - 03-05-2014, 10:34 PM
RE: Your Crown Has Fallen - by Alleo - 03-05-2014, 11:45 PM
RE: Your Crown Has Fallen - by Lakota - 03-06-2014, 09:49 PM
RE: Your Crown Has Fallen - by Alleo - 03-28-2014, 10:05 PM

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