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06-28-2014, 01:00 AM
 She perceives the giant to be daft, but she does not think him to be cruel, too. His lack of emotion at her provocation of his nothing is surprising, and she wonders if something has happened to him to make him like this. Do the horns on his head alter his thoughts? No. The mutation does no more than her wings, which have nestled themselves against her blue and green ribs. These precious utensils are used for flight, and sometimes even to wage war, but they do not cause her to thirst for blood. That is her own doing, although her upbringing may have shaped her into the formidable creature that she considers herself today. A smirk plays across the peahen's velvets at the thought. Perhaps she is as vain as other damsels after all.
The drunken bear wipes that smile clean off her face, and her lips twist into a frown at his lack of a reaction at her inquiry. He is either a fantastic liar, which is doubtful, or he is actually speaking the truth. It is in the shire's best interest to be doing the latter, for the lustrous bird has developed a short temper these past few days. The feathers at her wither twitch in annoyance and she narrows her eyes at his next set of words. What does he mean, "what about it?" What other purpose does this land serve her, except to act as a new realm for her to reside in? "Where is it?" Her tone is clipped as she struggles to keep her composure. The urge to snap at the beast and inform him of his idiocy is growing stronger, but the maiden's respect for Shit-stained Log has grown since their introduction. Besides, her inspection of him has concluded that he may not be so useless. "I was promised residence in this land many seasons ago, and I wish to go there." "Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in." BellonA
breathing life into battered bones
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