the path is dark [any]

[OPEN] the path is dark [any]

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306

Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5

Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE

Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine

05-09-2016, 08:44 PM

m e g a e r a
her fight and fury is fiery
oh but she loves
like sleep to the freezing

It was unlike Meg to feel let herself feel threatened by other women and now was not exception. Stallions were often her a flash of a competitive streak but only because the ones that seemed attracted to the desert were always these great hulking beasts of men; Ampere might have been an exception, for meg knew her skill on the battlefield was rival to Meg's but Sohalia never caused that shadow of unease to enter Meg's mind. Even if the dove had been Sultana for a time, the Sunspear had never seen her exhibit any overt marks of leadership and even as Gaucho's (former?) mate, Meg had no fear that the tender creature could supplant her or would even seek to.

Meg watched carefully, trying to gauge the Transcended’s mood, as if she could decipher her motives from that. It would be easier to boot her out, to avoid any possible confrontation with Sultan or ~~missing~~ Chancellor, by telling the white-wing to head back across the waters and pretend she had never seen her. Another occasion to add to Meg’s running list of times it might have helped to be dishonest, but that simply wasn’t her. Somalia seemed to have a hit of a smile, and perhaps more than anyone Megaera could sympathize with an appreciation for being greeted by sun and sand. Not to mention, now that she paused to look, there was a slight swell to Sohalia’s sides that told a different story than a mare coming off a long, lean winter. If that little suspicion proved fruitful, could she deny shelter for a mother and child? The Sunspear gave the slightest of sighs, generosity weighing heavily in her mental scales. The transcended would have to answer some questions though, and if by asking after the Throat she hoped to evade them, Meg refused to let it slide.

It was the white dove’s gentleness that did her the favor of helping to sooth Meg’s metaphorically ruffled feathers. In the bay’s hormonal state she was prone to shifts in mood as well as being slightly more susceptible to the influence of those around her and the mare’s kind greeting, the gentle tones of her voice, helped to gentle the battlemare’s approach. She still had questions, still had concerns but perhaps she would be able to voice them from a place of curiosity instead of suspicion. “The Throat is well enough, still here after wars and winter. The sands remain, as do those loyal to them.” Well, a softer Meg still lacked the smooth diplomacy and the best she could manage yet was a cautious tone instead of a harsh one. “But you, if you’re being honest, what is it you seek coming here?"