she brings joy and fire.
12-15-2014, 08:57 PM
Though she is but a servant to imperial blood and a father lost, the dwindle of unknown claim upon the northern lands she had passed had sent a dry bristle down the contours of a rigid spine. Cracking bones rattle with inevitable chill, under-brush splaying above shuddering pores as the peculiarity so seeks the reign of the woman she had pledged her loyalties. Never loose in her ambitions, it is only the loss of her core - her father, that had strayed her attendance. Mind, though somewhat perplexed, is still as finely tuned as the most optimum of servant warriors; ferocious violence not a natural occurrence but a trained habit. And she loiters the borders; skeleton slumped in a subservient posture of retained respect, golden gaze lowly fixated to pine-strewn loam – a call as gentle and as harmonised as the breeze that whispers towering arms. |
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