[P] it starts with a spark

[Antiope]

antiope

forever may you reign
forever may you reign

A

ntiope watches the other woman stand and position herself as if prepared to begin a fight. One of Antiope’s brows raises, beneath the strands of umber and white hair falling over her forehead. She stands more slowly, more purposefully, with more care. “You are always eager to battle, aren’t you?” she says.

It is evident in the way the other woman talks, as hot and fiery as flames she can produce. In that her first instinct in dealing with Raum is to burn all of Solterra to the ground. She is brute, and forceful, and clearly quite self-assured if not a bit zealous.

The tigress woman finds it curious, in all the ways they are similar and yet so different. When the gods made her to kill, they did it in the way of a wild cat. Graceful, sleek, captivating. She is meant to disarm by first appearances and then to destroy. It has always worked—even on the ones who had made her that way.

Morrighan is the fire, and Antiope is the rain.

“Not combat,” Antiope says, standing a few steps ahead of the grullo woman, looking out over the wide stretches around them. The dark is bright and the shadows deep and heavy, and perhaps one day she will be ready again to fight, but not yet. Instead, she sets her sapphire eyes upon a tree, perhaps just under two miles away, which must be massive because from here the trunk looks as big around as the columns that had held tall Corellon.

“A race, to that big tree and back to your fire,” she glances over her shoulder to Morrighan, checking to see if the other mare has picked out the tree from the distance. To tell the truth, Antiope isn’t sure whether Morrighan has seen her magic in use before. As she considers it, she wonders if only Septimus has truly seen what it can do, although others such as Isra have witnessed small fractions of its power.

She almost smiles. “And, rest assured, I never underestimate anyone.”

@Morrighan "speaks"

rallidae | rhiaan