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11-21-2012, 02:20 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-22-2012, 12:04 PM by Cassiopeia.)
The matron allowed a cordial smile to bloom along her lips, and before she could offer a reply, a winged man - their General alongside Azzuen, she soon realized - emerged from behind a bend in a rock formation not far away. Cassiopeia pricked her ears forward as he offered an apology, and cerulean eyes regarded him kindly. "Greetings, Midas. You're not interfering at all - in fact, I believe Tor may have some information you'd find of some use." Her gaze then settled on the bi-chrome mare once again, silently inquiring if she'd mind reiterating her knowledge. Midas would surely find more use of it than she. Meanwhile, the rain gathered new intensity, and Azulee sought refugee from the cold fluid beneath her mother's comparatively wide barrel. Beads of precipitation adhered to the maiden's encolure, causing the silken tendrils to cling to her face and neck like veins of ivy. She ruffled her wings, holding them at half mast, and peered up toward the heavens. Misery is often alluded toward the rain, but Cassiopeia would be more inclined to affiliate this downpour to some sort of divine anger. The clouds churned and vexed in the the dark chasm of the sky, and a deep, albeit distance grumble of thunder resonated through the humid air. "Perhaps it'd be wise to find shelter, soon." She mused. |
