kindred
Drift gently...
It didn’t take much for Kindred to garner Wren’s attention. Though, she can’t say that it ever really had. Her sister had always noticed the tiny differences in Kindred’s demeanor and acted more based off of those then the consistent babbling she preferred to give. The softness of the wings grazed across her shoulders, maw pressing against her cheek quietly as the mare says that they are not moving in circles, and that they most certainly will make it out.
She promises. Wren promises. So, it must be? Right? It had always held true before. She promised that she would keep Kindred safe – and she had. Wren inquiring if her sister trusted her, well that in and of itself was essentially a rhetorical question at this point. Still, Kindred bobbed her head in agreement. “Yes, of course I trust you.” Sometimes, that was all she had left. Kindred pulls back from the embrace – trying her best to find whatever strength was bubbling deep inside of her core, hiding away from her every grasp. She knew she would have to be able to do things on her own – as she had always known. The band she had lived with had proved it to her, forcing her to function even when she wasn’t able to.
It was the loud noise that shuddered from Wren’s bodice which caused her to jump. Body moving, twitching, inching in closer to Wren as if the ghost of her feathers across Kindred’s hide would change all of the problems before them to dust. They would find safety? She called out, after being tracked for so long – afraid for their lives – and she wholeheartedly believed that they would find safety now?! “Wren?! What if they’re still there. I – I... please don’t make me fight them! I don’t want to kill them! I don’t... I don’t want it...” she’s bumbling words, head swaying side to side slowly as she looks into the shadows of the trees around her. Aye, but they weren’t even really “shadows” anymore, for the chill of night had set in a while back and she hadn’t quite noticed it. At least... not with the forest covering the sky as thickly as it did.
Still, she tries to give Wren space as she hears the sound of hoofbeats approaching. Please... don’t let this be part of our old band... It was a plea to whichever god would hear her, for that was just about all Kindred had left in her. The horse stopped before the twins, a few hands taller than them, but just as dark as Wren. Specks of red lingered across the mare’s coat and streaks of the same hue were scattered throughout her locks. Kindred couldn’t say she recalled the mare from the band of assassins, though that wasn’t saying much when most of her time spent there was in a haze at the end.
“... a room... isn’t... secret of places...” Kindred’s head shakes slightly – grasping onto the words that her half-hazed mind can pick up on. A moment passes (too long for Kindred in her head, though not very slow at all in reality). “We’re not lovers...” Kindred says, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to the side, her thick forelock covering one of her eyes. All of her muscles are twitching in a panic, and it takes most of her to concentrate on her breathing – let alone figuring out if another person is good or bad. Those she had come across at this point had met their fate in a kind way – even if they had been assigned to kill rather than them walking into it with arms wide open. Yet, she chose to believe they had, after all their god of death had marked them for a peaceful end.
Still, Kindred was unsure of what Wren had been hoping to accomplish with another learning of their existence so she stayed quiet. Most of her hoped it was to find a new home – someone who would be willing to take in two battered creatures, both adept at killing with one who would much rather heal.
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OOC: @Wren @Sloane
She promises. Wren promises. So, it must be? Right? It had always held true before. She promised that she would keep Kindred safe – and she had. Wren inquiring if her sister trusted her, well that in and of itself was essentially a rhetorical question at this point. Still, Kindred bobbed her head in agreement. “Yes, of course I trust you.” Sometimes, that was all she had left. Kindred pulls back from the embrace – trying her best to find whatever strength was bubbling deep inside of her core, hiding away from her every grasp. She knew she would have to be able to do things on her own – as she had always known. The band she had lived with had proved it to her, forcing her to function even when she wasn’t able to.
It was the loud noise that shuddered from Wren’s bodice which caused her to jump. Body moving, twitching, inching in closer to Wren as if the ghost of her feathers across Kindred’s hide would change all of the problems before them to dust. They would find safety? She called out, after being tracked for so long – afraid for their lives – and she wholeheartedly believed that they would find safety now?! “Wren?! What if they’re still there. I – I... please don’t make me fight them! I don’t want to kill them! I don’t... I don’t want it...” she’s bumbling words, head swaying side to side slowly as she looks into the shadows of the trees around her. Aye, but they weren’t even really “shadows” anymore, for the chill of night had set in a while back and she hadn’t quite noticed it. At least... not with the forest covering the sky as thickly as it did.
Still, she tries to give Wren space as she hears the sound of hoofbeats approaching. Please... don’t let this be part of our old band... It was a plea to whichever god would hear her, for that was just about all Kindred had left in her. The horse stopped before the twins, a few hands taller than them, but just as dark as Wren. Specks of red lingered across the mare’s coat and streaks of the same hue were scattered throughout her locks. Kindred couldn’t say she recalled the mare from the band of assassins, though that wasn’t saying much when most of her time spent there was in a haze at the end.
“... a room... isn’t... secret of places...” Kindred’s head shakes slightly – grasping onto the words that her half-hazed mind can pick up on. A moment passes (too long for Kindred in her head, though not very slow at all in reality). “We’re not lovers...” Kindred says, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to the side, her thick forelock covering one of her eyes. All of her muscles are twitching in a panic, and it takes most of her to concentrate on her breathing – let alone figuring out if another person is good or bad. Those she had come across at this point had met their fate in a kind way – even if they had been assigned to kill rather than them walking into it with arms wide open. Yet, she chose to believe they had, after all their god of death had marked them for a peaceful end.
Still, Kindred was unsure of what Wren had been hoping to accomplish with another learning of their existence so she stayed quiet. Most of her hoped it was to find a new home – someone who would be willing to take in two battered creatures, both adept at killing with one who would much rather heal.
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OOC: @Wren @
... Into Oblivion
