Private the altar - Printable Version

Easily the shadows caress her, welcome her into places only children of the night could comprehend. She was not birthed by Caligo but certainly she was raised by her; the goddess of darkness pulling her this way and that until Rhoswen could take it no longer. Still, though, the kiss of midnight was branded subtly on her skin - if only you looked long enough.

The silvery woman slipped through the castle, listening to the gentle murmurings of her comrades behind closed doors. Candlelight illuminated the pale auburn skin smoothed over her bones, casting distorted shadows across her face. It did not take long for her to reach Seraphina's quarters, perhaps not long enough. Rhos paused, inhaling slowly, feeling the air push against her lungs until they could not expand an inch further.

There had been a quiet, stagnant moment where Rhoswen had caught Seraphina's eye in the crowd - the two woman not pausing in their activities but still the auburn-haired siren had felt something pass between them. Absence on anyone's part would be noticed, but when it was taken by a nightborne wolf, there was an undeniable stirring of suspicion in the minds of the wary. She understood: why trust a defector? Especially one that took to vanishing for many weeks? But there was no substance behind the dubiety; Rhoswen was Solis' daughter through and through.

Two knocks on the looming oaken door, and a silent breath - she waited behind an impassive mask, eyes of ash and grey ocean cascading, spiralling.

@~~Seraphina~~ it's v small but i sUCKKK at starters sometimes