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09-04-2015, 12:15 AM
The ocean mare had been hoping that the rumors of the impending battle had been just that—rumors, whisperings, and hearsays—with no validities to bring truth to the ghastly words. However, when she catches the sounds of battle once again, her heart quickens in her dread as she canters swiftly to the scene, lead seeming to grow in her bones with each step and weighing down her body when she finally breaches the sparse clearing.
What Tiamat sees makes her heart come to a painful, shuddering halt as it drops into her stomach. It is similar to what she had witnessed in the Blood Falls—their own deity fighting another, masses of others swarming around them, attacking one another and clawing their way to the monstrous Wolf.
It makes her sick to watch such brutality.
“Stop,” the ocean mare chokes out, the plea a dying whisper against her lips, caught and smothered as quickly as it had appeared by the cries of battle. She doesn’t want to see them fighting. There are other ways, there are always other ways, violence is never the answer and in her heart she implores them to see this. She is untested and inexperienced in the ways of the world (a white light in the haunting darkness) and she feels the sadness coil across her features to witness such hate. “Please stop!” She pleads again, a little louder this time, but she knows it is far from enough.
As much as it hurts her heart, Tiamat recognizes there is nothing she can do or say that would end the battle now—the war, the call for blood and the thirst for vengeance. It is too far gone. Inhaling another trembling breath in an attempt to steady herself, the ocean mare musters up her courage again and descends into the warzone, lingering along the fringes (so out of place she feels, in this forest of ferocity and gore).
White eyes, doe-like and wild now in her anxiousness, skirt around the figures, trying to pick out the wounded from the masses. From the ground she picks herbs and sprigs that she recognizes, gathering them in preparation for the trauma she is sure will come.
What Tiamat sees makes her heart come to a painful, shuddering halt as it drops into her stomach. It is similar to what she had witnessed in the Blood Falls—their own deity fighting another, masses of others swarming around them, attacking one another and clawing their way to the monstrous Wolf.
It makes her sick to watch such brutality.
“Stop,” the ocean mare chokes out, the plea a dying whisper against her lips, caught and smothered as quickly as it had appeared by the cries of battle. She doesn’t want to see them fighting. There are other ways, there are always other ways, violence is never the answer and in her heart she implores them to see this. She is untested and inexperienced in the ways of the world (a white light in the haunting darkness) and she feels the sadness coil across her features to witness such hate. “Please stop!” She pleads again, a little louder this time, but she knows it is far from enough.
As much as it hurts her heart, Tiamat recognizes there is nothing she can do or say that would end the battle now—the war, the call for blood and the thirst for vengeance. It is too far gone. Inhaling another trembling breath in an attempt to steady herself, the ocean mare musters up her courage again and descends into the warzone, lingering along the fringes (so out of place she feels, in this forest of ferocity and gore).
White eyes, doe-like and wild now in her anxiousness, skirt around the figures, trying to pick out the wounded from the masses. From the ground she picks herbs and sprigs that she recognizes, gathering them in preparation for the trauma she is sure will come.
notes; TEAM GODDESS (technically, she doesn't officially take sides)
Coming upon the battle, Tiamat recognizes there is nothing she can do to stop the violence, so wanders along the fringes of the battle. She collects herbs and searches for the wounded.
“Speech.”
And at last I see the light.
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.
magic & force are permitted.
