ask no questions

She isn’t concerned with the pain. Not really. Pain just means you are alive. It’s a good thing, sometimes, brings her back to her senses in a way nothing else quite can. It means she didn’t end up getting hurt enough it was time for another visit to her friend Death. Not that she always minded going, but coming back was strange, like she’s not quite herself for a day or two. Her brain is slower, her atittude gone, her body sluggish. Never the most fun. She’d rather just live with the pain of the burns, though she can’t help but enjoy the way they flicker and glow. Better than the average scar.

Her body is litered with average scars. She’s been fighting all her life, throwing herself into on stupid situtation after another. And not because her heart bleeds for those that might be in danger in those situtations. She protects, yes, but for her own selifsh reasons and nothing more. Because she loves to fight. Because fighting often simply means she is protecting someone. But she is just as likely to be the one causing chaos and damage as she is to be the one stopping it.

“The water helps, thank you.” But even if she so often the storm, she can be poliet, she can pretend. She can claim she fought to save those that could not simply fly away. In some way, she did, but only because there’s a part of her that soars at the idea of it all, of fighting a cheetah made of fire. She finally starts to pay more attention to her companion now, the dragon that has come back to join her. A dragon mare and her dragon companion.

They are not so different in that way. Weaver is half raven (in her way, between the shifting and the raven wings that always adorn her back, no matter her form), with her own Raven companion. She’d love to call upon more of them, to create armies of raven’s instead of just the two of them. The way this dragon mare has her small army of dragons. “It’s impressive,” she admits, thankfully without any trace of jealousy in her voice. “I saw them as I was coming this way. What are they, exactly?” She pauses, waiting for an answer, before remembering to add, “Those above seemed okay when I left. Burns heal, they just hurt like hell.” Because they did hurt like a mother, and some might be a little less used to pain than a dragon or solider.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies