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02-11-2015, 12:59 PM
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I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm
they used to shout my name, now they whisper it Ophelia had left the conclusion of the deaths and moved north, saddened by the outcome but needing to see her family - those she was responsible for. The walk was not one that oppressed her heart. She did not feel stifled by having to return to her charge - not like before. Her heart felt as if she was doing good in the north and as if she belonged. Even Deimos seemed to have been encouraged by her presence, especially since she made no mind to stifle his violence. No, for as beautiful and gentle as she was, Ophelia was not some flower floating through live and praising peace. No, she was just as dark on the inside as anyone else and just as attracted to bloodshed. The pale princess spent time at home before deciding that she needed to speak to Gaucho - to ensure that he was all right after the entire ordeal. In addition, he wanted to warn the leader of the Dragon's Throat about about Confutatis and the lies she might be spewing about the Aurora Basin through her brainwashed children. There was much to talk about, and her mind was full to the brim. So much to do and so many questions still. Ophelia had wandered, barely aware of her surroundings until her hooves hit sand, watching the Dragon's Throat lay before her - familiar. Once she lived here. Once she served here, under Kri. That felt like so long ago, now. The pale princess let herself in, willing to accept whatever fate she was afforded for trespassing if Gaucho deemed her unwelcome. She knew her way, and she followed the lines in the sand to the oasis, drinking from the waters. Absently, she looked for Gaucho, waiting patiently and observing for a moment. She knew that she would not have to wait for very long; he was diligent. @[Gaucho] |
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
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