white noise. {jupiter}
12-09-2014, 08:58 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-09-2014, 09:00 AM by Epiphron.)
Why exactly she feels warmly toward Jupiter, Epiphron is not sure, but her gut instincts haven't ever led her too far astray. Gerhardt had spoken fondly of her and she had been an ally to the Kingdom of Seracia -- and to Valhalla, too -- in the past. Her orange coat is soothing to her eyes, and silently she appreciates the woman's beauty as she speaks. Her voice was riddled with quiet passion that cannot be ignored, and Epiphron feels a faint smile creeping over her features, turning the corners of her lips upward slightly. Sawtooth was not a name she had heard of before, but she recalled that the Destruction family had been a large part of Ludicael in some time. She'd only met one member of the family that she remembered, but knew they were a large group, spread widely throughout Alacritia.
She listened to Jupiter's story carefully. Song was a name she was familiar with. She'd taken the pack from Jupiter, who'd fought for her, and she hadn't even tried to find her when she was sick? Her own nose wrinkled in distaste. She, too, knew what betrayal felt like -- and sometimes simple neglect was the worst form of betrayal. "Your anger is justified," she noted conversationally, as though they were talking about the weather rather than the freedom of a dozen or so wolves. "Can you imagine being held as a prisoner and not fighting for your freedom?" It was a rhetorical question and she found herself almost laughing at the prospect. Perhaps she could understand for some, but for none to fight -- to even try? Though she was not a fighter at heart, she couldn't imagine being taken and doing nothing about it. The core of her being rested on being free, on being controlled by none other than herself; she felt herself seething slightly, joining in with Jupiter's own bitterness, at how weak these wolves sounded. If they were not willing to fight to be free, to fight for their families, what would they fight for? "Unbelievable," she laughed under her breath. Perhaps Jupiter was a woman she could get along with after all. "What do you want for Ludicael? Aside from these prisoners?"
She listened to Jupiter's story carefully. Song was a name she was familiar with. She'd taken the pack from Jupiter, who'd fought for her, and she hadn't even tried to find her when she was sick? Her own nose wrinkled in distaste. She, too, knew what betrayal felt like -- and sometimes simple neglect was the worst form of betrayal. "Your anger is justified," she noted conversationally, as though they were talking about the weather rather than the freedom of a dozen or so wolves. "Can you imagine being held as a prisoner and not fighting for your freedom?" It was a rhetorical question and she found herself almost laughing at the prospect. Perhaps she could understand for some, but for none to fight -- to even try? Though she was not a fighter at heart, she couldn't imagine being taken and doing nothing about it. The core of her being rested on being free, on being controlled by none other than herself; she felt herself seething slightly, joining in with Jupiter's own bitterness, at how weak these wolves sounded. If they were not willing to fight to be free, to fight for their families, what would they fight for? "Unbelievable," she laughed under her breath. Perhaps Jupiter was a woman she could get along with after all. "What do you want for Ludicael? Aside from these prisoners?"