Made to run for our lives
05-17-2021, 08:49 AM
As she absorbed the warmth, a voice from across the springs pulled purple eyes open once more. Asla turned her head, looking at the monochromatic woman. She asked about packs and if any were worthy of joining. Funny how the world worked, right? A soft, amused chuckle ghosted past Aslatiel's liver colored nares and she gave a light shrug. "There's only one pack worth joining and it so happens to be mine." Stepping from the water, Aslatiel moved closer to the large fae. The woman dwarfed her, but it was no matter. She'd grown up in the midst of giants. Asla seated herself at the edge of the pool, curling her striped tail around one shapely hip. "I am Aslatiel Fatalis. Reaper of the Armada. My father, Sirius, is the warlord." She motioned in the direction of Armada lands with a point of her muzzle. "We're a pack of warriors, but we also have healers, hunters, crafters. We work hard and we play hard." Asla noted the vibrant blue of the fae's eyes. She really was an attractive woman. She continued to appreciate the lady as she spoke."We're looking to fill our ranks with hard working wolves that want to become part of a cohesive unit. Devoted wolves. Trustworthy wolves." Perhaps she was coming on a little strong, but the waterlogged fae had brought it up. With so many of the Armada dropping off of the face of the earth, they needed to bolster their ranks. "Speech" |