The bird can feel the weight of his molten gaze upon her vibrant hide as she approaches the Earth. Although she cannot see the look of approval on his finely-chiselled face, the warrior knows that she has completed the flaming God's task. Retreating figures can be seen all around his radiant form as he sends them away, one by one, and satisfaction rolls over the hybrid like a cluster of rain clouds over a thirsty field. The God has not disposed of her. Perhaps this means he has another task. But is she willing to fulfil it? Not if it earns me ridicule.

Her own fiery stare takes in the ash-and-gold form of the child that trails after her. Annoyance surges through the maiden as her body rocks from the impact of meeting the Earth. Did this golden babe have the audacity to replicate the image that the stunning creature had been clever enough to manipulate? Oh, she most certainly did, and the warrior is far too selfish to condone her imitative behaviours. The beauty's thoughts turn wicked as she lines up her opalescent haunches with the fae's breast. Best to give the girl a lesson on her manners.

But before the haughty vixen can deliver a fateful kick to the defected filly's heart, the God interrupts with, "You are a beautiful child, even if you are broken within-" And soon to be broken without. The comment is silent, albeit malicious. "But I see your potential. Leave the Edge - you have no place there. If you dwell in the Throat, under my watch and warmth, your heart shall be healed. I make this offer to you only once."

The God does not realize just what he has done for the "beautiful child" -- he may have offered to fix her heart, but that will not stop the frenzied bird from trying to rip it out. How dare the bumbling girl steal the reward that was undoubtedly owed to her. A normally cold stare now teems with the flame that has ignited in her breast, and the smoldering warrior --regardless of her injury -- rolls back on her barred hinds to force her corruptive gaze into an innocent one. No amount of healing will save the girl from her wrath, but the Aztec can summon enough self-control to prevent herself from delivering it. Now is neither the time or place to unleash her fury. She knows better than to disrupt the peace in the presence of a God. He will not protect you for long.

Bold ears swivel in the direction of the golden deity as he speaks, and the hybrid tosses her head as he placates her bloody lust with his compliments. The tribal woman considers him to be a misguided God, but she does not think he is blind. She adorns a proud posture with a raised crown and rounded crest, and her eyes do not move from his as he rakes his gaze across her. His smile suggests that is more than just a friendly offering to such a volatile creature, and the warrior has to refrain from rolling her eyes at him. He may be a God, but he acts no differently from the other stallions who have sought after her vivacious form. Males.

"I assure you that it is not refreshment that I seek. Lord." His title is tacked on in an attempt at respect. She would possess so much authority around the likes of him if her etiquette was as flawless as her beauty. But such is not the case for the warrior, as she has a barbed tongue to go with her alluring looks, and she lacks the charm to play off of his words.

"But I do seek answers." A flick of blue-dipped feathers. "I am looking for Osiris, who was once of the Foothills." The hybrid eyes the sun burnt filly as a golden flower settles in her tail, her attention momentarily pulled away from the God. Incredulity replaces the annoyance that has all but faded from her veins, and this time the bird allows a disdainful song to spill from her maw. Mares can be so vain. The warrior does not understand why members of her gender feel the need to act so dainty. She most certainly does not.

Returning to her conversation with the emblazoned stallion, she remains as blunt as ever. "If you know of the wolf's whereabouts, tell me." As if to punish the maiden for her demanding attitude, the wound at her barrel flares up in pain, but her response is less than satisfactory. "Perhaps in return for watering you flowers, you could do something about this."


"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in." Quisque iaculis dapibus fermentum.

{Looking for some answers to her questions, if at all possible? Will stick around for a bit, unless forbidden to.

It has come to my attention that this post may be considered "meta-playing", but I assure you Bellona doesn't know Faeanne is actually crippled. I just used it to describe her in my writing. ^-^}