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Megaera waited for an order. She hated waiting, hated every thrice-damned second that she could not act but the warrior forced herself to remain still. The year she’d spent wandering had put a horrid deficit in her training and she knew she had a lot to learn of the fighting arts, but she would not let her Sultan stand unaided against this horned brigade. It was not for their horns that Meg distrusted them, not really. But they were of the Basin, at least the blood-stained mare must be, wasn’t that their queen? She certainly seemed to act with a good measure of authority but Meg could not be sure. Meg had never been to the Basin, had never met a soul that called the place home, but the things she had heard… The rampant racism, the invasion of Dragon’s Throat, constant attacks and robberies until this past season. Meg was a creature of the desert and it grew in her mind that the northern mountains must freeze hearts as well as water. She tried to ease her restlessness with planning, taking a survey of all those present and trying to plan who she might strike and how if it came to that. Her recent spar with Gaucho was fresh in her mind and the burns were only started to heal on her body. She tried to remember what she had learned then. Step by step it replayed: her strike, his strike, her flight, his fire, a pair of ice blue eyes hot with anger and seen through a haze of smoke. No! Than hadn’t been Gaucho’s fire, the memory was of her first dance in flames and when she moved her gaze again upon the white and spotted stallion, Meg remembered. “Mauja.” It was a whisper, so soft she hardly knew she spoke it, for there was the beast that had met her fresh out of fire. She often thought she must have dreamed that brief meeting, as strange as it had been. They’d taken it in turns to nearly attack each other and then he’d stood watch while she slept. She could almost hear the crack of ice and hiss of flame and a shiver ran down her spine. The two stallions were at the forefront of her mind. One had watched her burn and one had burned her, take that by itself and somehow it didn’t make sense that she should stand behind the latter. The young mare that had stood with Mauja hurled her own harsh words at Gaucho. Meg heard only the anger in her voice and nothing of the grief, it was not an emotion that she would have recognized. Then Ol’ Blood-Tips seemed to flat out accuse Gaucho as well, citing the skin of a snake as evidence and that incensed to warrior and she didn’t even register the odd request she made. She couldn’t stand for this, could not sit and listen to this filth that dripped from angry mouths. For a moment Meg’s short temper got the better of her. Hind legs pushed the lithe body forward and the dark head thrashed, wildly aggressive. STOP! The better part of her mind came through and had the mare skid to a halt placing her only a nose ahead of where her Sultan had stood. Using all her limited restraint, she bit back her own harsh words and forced herself only to glare at unicorns, each in turn. She was a soldier, and a soldier obeyed. She trusted in the stallion next to her to act in the right. If Gaucho fought, Megaera fought. If Gaucho retreated then she would follow. Black Hairs and sand. Feathers and burnt flesh. Bone and a reptile’s skin. If the clues pointed to Gaucho, Megaera would not allow even a hint of that thought to enter her mind. Gaucho had given her everything she had. Gaucho was everything she wanted to be. If her faith in him was blind, then somebody had best get her a seeing-eye dog because her loyalty would not be shaken. Notes: Ugh, so you admins know, but I swear to god, if Gaucho’s the murderer, even if he was like, possessed or something, Meg is gonna have a rough time. |
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
