Let Me Burn You

She had arrived in silence, watching the wolves that her brother had summoned with interest. Ranks were being shuffled, and that was a good thing. They needed to prepare for war, and it was necessary to prep their higher ranks and give more loyal members a place that suited them on the battlefield. The woman herself was still injured from her last bout on the field, more wounds from Glaciem, another loss. It was hard not to give up on herself even if she had hope for Valhalla, but she would try, she had to. Friction and Liberty were both gone, and Azalea had given herself up - even if she managed to win one or Valhalla two... there would be punishments for whoever was left. Winning was loosing and all she had managed to gain for Valhalla was loss. How could they even look at her as if she was an adequate leader anymore?

Silently she would sit beside her brother, her stomach churning, but her visage giving nothing away. Emotionless she would listen to him, holding her head level out of sheer instinct and perhaps a bit of habit. Inside though, she was a torrent of emotion. Her niece, the girl that looked so much like her, it killed her to see her rank filled by another. A part of her was willing to snap, to snarl, to deny that they needed someone to help fill that rank... but she would hold her tongue. Logically the woman agreed with his changed - Gael would make a good heir... at least, until Azalea returned. Somehow, someway, she would be returned...

While she withered beneath the weight of war and all that came with it, she watched her brother flourish. He was a strict general, a worthy commander, in ways that she could not muster he pushed forward and bared his fangs. When the time came to fight she would join him, stand at his side and do the same - she trusted him, perhaps too much. Yet with him, she nearly felt like they had a chance of surviving this. With a nod and a brush of her shoulder, she would show that she supported him - and the woman would raise her head and try to do more than look the part.

War was on the horizon, and regardless of who made the first move, Valhalla had a plan. Regardless of her wounds and emotions, there was still fire in the Adravendi - and she would fight.