Count our strengths
10-06-2014, 04:37 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-06-2014, 06:27 PM by Harmony.)
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Her mismatched gems would look at her sister in incredulous expression, speaking not a word, only gentle nods could be given to the others of the group. The rain pounded overhead, her pelt slicked with water. It was difficult to even keep herself balanced. Conditions were not right for a hunt. She wanted to tell Motif that, but she was afraid of what Venus would say, what Motif would say. For once she didn't want to talk, she didn't want to pipe up and speak her opinion. Her confidence in herself was failing... The storm had washed the slate clean. The Tagavor wasn't who she usually was. ooc: sorry for such a bad post. |
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