stomach to the floor
06-22-2013, 09:16 AM
Massive cranium would lift, ivory pelt of shimmering white would gleam beneath the blinding whiteness of the sun. Two toned oculars flickered towards the field of death, where she, scarcely a month before had regained her retribution. Where Tortuga had been vindicated, it seemed she had done her pack well, the vast majority seemed to approve her reign and her choice of co-regent. A moment of contemplation would leave her motionless, before she turned, skull dipping to call her Nnoitra. I will be at the battlefield. I need to watch this fight. A dip of his cranium, acceptance of full responsibility and the goddess was gone. The Queen's heavy strides ate the ground beneath her, her massive frame becoming a blur of blinding white as she escaped Tortuga's grasp and slid into unclaimed territory. The battlefield had become both a place of hope and a place of sadness for the Queen, but her presence, albeit she could not rightly say why, was required here, she needed to be here, to watch, to study. Lunging to clear a last bit of foliage that stood in her way, she would skid to a halt, claws tearing into the earth to stop her bodice. Her eyes danced to the various forms already present. Gargoyle... she had saved his life once, there was a bond between the two of them, albeit a strange one, but a bond never the less. This woman, she knew nothing of her and she had no rhyme or reason to attack Glaciem, no emotions flickered across the woman's maw, but her eyes would shift back to Gargoyle, cranium dipping ever so slightly, she had chosen who she wished to win this war. Speech, |
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