Let the Good Times Roll
09-24-2013, 05:59 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-01-2013, 11:16 AM by Azalea.)
So it was said and done. Valhalla would be going to war. It was a rather unwilling fight, brought on by the hellions of Glaciem. Azalea's frustration remained bottled up, aside from what seeped out through her eyes and lips. She had never been good at keeping the emotions off her face and sometimes her tongue refused to yield. Chrysanthe had asked to see her after the meeting so when the meeting ended, Azalea trolled off slowly while her aunt spoke with those who wished a quiet moment. She had moved herself to the edge of the rolling the prairie, seating herself to wait for the wolf that nearly mirrored her in looks. How had that happened? Genetics were a funny thing and Azalea had never met her grand parents to know just how much they resembled Chrysanthe and Epiphron. Well, at least her grandmother did. Finally she watched her aunt turn toward her, the last wolf moving off in the opposite direction. As Chrysanthe approaches, Azalea stood up, her face still refusing to smile or look that way it would normally. Her face was... rather bleak at current. "Chrysanthe." Again she was at a loss for words, her lighter brow spots fixing together for a moment in a look of open frustration, "We will get Gideon back." There was raw determination in her voice. |
