kindred
Drift gently...
Wren takes the lead rather quickly, following with a strengthened voice coated in the monotone nature Kindred had become so accustomed to. Kindred’s senses were slowly circling back in, though – allowing her to make note of the lingering smells across the land they had dared enter. Just as she feels her breath catch in her chest the brush of Wren’s primaries seems to flick the lock and allow the air to flow freely once more. Then, as Wren ducks her poll even further Kindred allows hers to do the same – steeling her body so that it no longer shakes.
The other mare’s name clicks deep, back into Kindred’s mind as it pulled its way slowly out of the haze. Sloane appeared to have no care, no interest, no desire for the pair of twins to actually follow her – though Kindred supposed the fact that she had a herd who might have needed one of the two skills was the only grace necessary. So, as the mare steps forward – peering with a head over her shoulder Kindred does so in-kind. “Thank you, ma’am.” Kindred says, doing her best to keep an easy gait behind the darkened mare. Her mind counting as many strands of Sloane’s red hair as she can. Two. Five. Ten. Fifteen. With each strand landing on a five she can feel her breath easing and her muscles relaxing. It was easier and easier to pull herself together – to bring herself back into a state of use rather than one which was simply run off of necessity. ”Who is Somnus?” Kindred inquires, voice finally ringing steady – the light chirp she usually had flickering out as her voice lilts upwards near the end. Perhaps Wren had found them a home? Neither sounded like a name she knew from their old group of assassins. Perhaps they might be safe for a bit…
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@Wren @Sloane
The other mare’s name clicks deep, back into Kindred’s mind as it pulled its way slowly out of the haze. Sloane appeared to have no care, no interest, no desire for the pair of twins to actually follow her – though Kindred supposed the fact that she had a herd who might have needed one of the two skills was the only grace necessary. So, as the mare steps forward – peering with a head over her shoulder Kindred does so in-kind. “Thank you, ma’am.” Kindred says, doing her best to keep an easy gait behind the darkened mare. Her mind counting as many strands of Sloane’s red hair as she can. Two. Five. Ten. Fifteen. With each strand landing on a five she can feel her breath easing and her muscles relaxing. It was easier and easier to pull herself together – to bring herself back into a state of use rather than one which was simply run off of necessity. ”Who is Somnus?” Kindred inquires, voice finally ringing steady – the light chirp she usually had flickering out as her voice lilts upwards near the end. Perhaps Wren had found them a home? Neither sounded like a name she knew from their old group of assassins. Perhaps they might be safe for a bit…
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@Wren @
... Into Oblivion
