coming right for you
seasonal fight prompt - spring yr 14
11-11-2019, 06:47 PM
She'd let him go at the Battlefield but followed behind from a safe distance. He intrigued her, she wouldn't lie - his strength, his presence. The attraction was intellectual. There was so much to learn from him. Her life was dedicated to studying the dance of battle. Only when she could prove her mettle would she be worthy of the Vaelnaris name. There was a lurking suspicion in the back of her mind that she'd lost Baelerion again because wasn't ready yet to have him.
She was superstitious by nature, but as she arrived near the Armada's territory, Vera looked absolutely ghastly. The white female's coat was naturally dipped in sooty greys and blacks and she had smeared deer's blood across her face liberally beneath both eyes and across her snout. Her front legs were slick with it and her fur was matted down from the gore. It was a ritual of her own design for strength, valor, and power. If she arrived painted as she did, there would be no turning her away. She was irrationally certain of it.
Although she was doused in blood, her ribs peaked from her flanks and she altogether looked unwell. It was as if she hadn't eaten in quite a while. Vera was fasting as part of her ritual, but she had fasted so intently and for so long that the world occasionally tilted on its axis when she rose quickly. Her breathing came heavy and hot as she approached the edge of the territory. Unsure of what to do now - she was used to being a respected warrioress in her lands, she had never been anyone's peon before - Veraxes paced restlessly at the border.
wc 283
twc 283/1500
She was superstitious by nature, but as she arrived near the Armada's territory, Vera looked absolutely ghastly. The white female's coat was naturally dipped in sooty greys and blacks and she had smeared deer's blood across her face liberally beneath both eyes and across her snout. Her front legs were slick with it and her fur was matted down from the gore. It was a ritual of her own design for strength, valor, and power. If she arrived painted as she did, there would be no turning her away. She was irrationally certain of it.
Although she was doused in blood, her ribs peaked from her flanks and she altogether looked unwell. It was as if she hadn't eaten in quite a while. Vera was fasting as part of her ritual, but she had fasted so intently and for so long that the world occasionally tilted on its axis when she rose quickly. Her breathing came heavy and hot as she approached the edge of the territory. Unsure of what to do now - she was used to being a respected warrioress in her lands, she had never been anyone's peon before - Veraxes paced restlessly at the border.
wc 283
twc 283/1500