Wayfaring Merchants

the Rift

[OPEN] Wayfaring Merchants

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245

World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4

Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE

Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks

#12

01-31-2015, 06:46 PM

Tandavi

I'll light a fire in your new shoes.

More unicorns appear, and she notes with hysteric amusement that at least now the ones stolen by her mother are outnumbered again. She does not let her eyes leave Deimos, the unsuspecting Reaper, who stands as a pillar of malign intent and murderous magic, oblivious to the family she so poorly represents.

Slowly her breathing begins to level out, and the hurried pace of her frightened heart slows to some semblance of calm. His magic still bites at the corners of her ears and the curl of her lips, but it does not pull her, does not send her wild with horror and dismay. She must be strong, must represent a land, a people, a cause; she cannot fold beneath the pressure of her fear. Fire Dancer inhales, black eyes coasting from form to form, faltering only as they meet fierce bronze, lock into the fervid gaze of the stranger who has spoken least.

Black gaze narrows, and she exhales sparks, a defensive, instinctive response to the tall behemoth's piercing stare. Somehow she feels better, though, as her budding anger burns away the shadows left by fear. Scarves? She wants to laugh, a bubbling, ill-placed response to the words. What use do they have for scarves, in the desert? Is this actually a joke, or is she simply going mad from cold and seeping fear?

The latter seems likely.

Dark lips smile gratefully at the touch of her friend, and she finally surrenders to the situation, unable to fool herself into any semblance of control. She is grateful, so grateful for Sacre, who is kind and smart, who is braver than she and has forgiven her so many mistakes, and even now is willing to fill the roll she should inhabit, but is unable. She lets him speak and quietly nods, taking comfort in the brush of his skin; her crown rises, and some semblance of authority returns to her figure as she waits for judgment from the Reaper and his court, itching to run, ready to go home.

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