☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
AS A GIRL, I WAITED PATIENTLY TO CATCH FIRE
as if it were something worth wanting
There are a few things that Seraphina knows about fire. One is that, when hot enough, it burns in a way that feels cold - and as she eyes the sun god, watching his scalding stare drag its way along the others that have gathered, she thinks that their personalities might not be in as great of a contrast as she has always assumed. His smile is all teeth – a harbinger.
His laugh, however, is fractionally warmer; she follows his gesture towards the parting mist and shudders at what is gathered within. They’re outnumbered, and those antlers…though little more than an illusory haze from such a distance, she isn’t sure that she likes their odds against the beasts. She eyes the Sun God as he suggests that they get started, and she considers ways to deal with them – if they spook easily, perhaps they could drive them towards the canyon, run them off the edges, or-
But they are already in motion, uncoordinated and singular; she gives a soft hiss of frustration as the black pegasus swoops towards his prey, griffin alongside him, and Elif follows; Matthias charges into the fray without an ounce of hesitation or tact, and Teiran, clearly frustrated, is quick to follow; Saphrax lingers, takes to flight, and she wonders if he intends to herd them. The only one among them with hesitation or consideration is, to her shock, El Toro, and she turns to glance at him, muscles tensing. “Go for their legs. If you maim them, they should go down, and they’ll be easier to deal with…and watch for their antlers.” She looks at the battle that has already begun, with or without thought, with or without the orders of her or the god at her side, and bites back a sigh. Attempting to control Solterra was like attempting to control the desert sands; they shifted and danced in the wind, outside of all control.
She tosses a long look at the Sun God over her shoulder. “I believe that this is where I pray that you watch over us in battle,” she murmurs, with a low dip of her head, then strides forward, towards the herd of elk. Seraphina is no tossing mass of muscle and teeth and hoof; she is cool, eerie composure, sharp and accurate as a knife. She stays low to the ground and tensed, and she tries to stay in their blind spots – and, as she strides towards the first elk she reaches, she lashes out towards its hindquarters, trying to grab a nice mouthful of leg and jerk the creature off-balance. If she isn't careful (though she always is), she might find herself the recipient of a kick to the chest or neck, but she tries to bite it from an angle, to stay out of the direct line of its hooves. She is no wolf, but, a hunter now, she moves like one.
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notes | l a t e
tag | @Random Events
AS A GIRL, I WAITED PATIENTLY TO CATCH FIRE
as if it were something worth wanting
There are a few things that Seraphina knows about fire. One is that, when hot enough, it burns in a way that feels cold - and as she eyes the sun god, watching his scalding stare drag its way along the others that have gathered, she thinks that their personalities might not be in as great of a contrast as she has always assumed. His smile is all teeth – a harbinger.
His laugh, however, is fractionally warmer; she follows his gesture towards the parting mist and shudders at what is gathered within. They’re outnumbered, and those antlers…though little more than an illusory haze from such a distance, she isn’t sure that she likes their odds against the beasts. She eyes the Sun God as he suggests that they get started, and she considers ways to deal with them – if they spook easily, perhaps they could drive them towards the canyon, run them off the edges, or-
But they are already in motion, uncoordinated and singular; she gives a soft hiss of frustration as the black pegasus swoops towards his prey, griffin alongside him, and Elif follows; Matthias charges into the fray without an ounce of hesitation or tact, and Teiran, clearly frustrated, is quick to follow; Saphrax lingers, takes to flight, and she wonders if he intends to herd them. The only one among them with hesitation or consideration is, to her shock, El Toro, and she turns to glance at him, muscles tensing. “Go for their legs. If you maim them, they should go down, and they’ll be easier to deal with…and watch for their antlers.” She looks at the battle that has already begun, with or without thought, with or without the orders of her or the god at her side, and bites back a sigh. Attempting to control Solterra was like attempting to control the desert sands; they shifted and danced in the wind, outside of all control.
She tosses a long look at the Sun God over her shoulder. “I believe that this is where I pray that you watch over us in battle,” she murmurs, with a low dip of her head, then strides forward, towards the herd of elk. Seraphina is no tossing mass of muscle and teeth and hoof; she is cool, eerie composure, sharp and accurate as a knife. She stays low to the ground and tensed, and she tries to stay in their blind spots – and, as she strides towards the first elk she reaches, she lashes out towards its hindquarters, trying to grab a nice mouthful of leg and jerk the creature off-balance. If she isn't careful (though she always is), she might find herself the recipient of a kick to the chest or neck, but she tries to bite it from an angle, to stay out of the direct line of its hooves. She is no wolf, but, a hunter now, she moves like one.
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notes | l a t e
tag | @Random Events
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
