Warriors unfold whether we're young or old
Sometimes we take and we pillage for gold
Huehuecoyotl. The name simmers between her lobes and imprints on the visual memory of his flamboyant pose. Blackened eyes continue to hold his stare, stealing his baby blues and she wonders in her stillness, can he see the horror that lies behind in her path?
Then rings her name, true and clear and in the soft breeze it carries to him in similar tones to before. “Daunt,” But her lip remains straight, brows neutral and unruffled. His winking grin fails to impress the lady of stone and she merely flexes her wings, feathers rippling against her shimmering bounds and she waits for the man to continue until she is offered the information needed for her continuation. Novus, littered in foreign courts. The Katharas had not spread their misery here and nor had they touched the borders, but she would long for the day word reached her ear through frightful screams that they were coming. The Family of Black, were coming.
And then he declares his position and now she raises a brow. “I abide to no other than my family,” Declaring her loyalties despite the tragedies. If she were not to align with her own blood then she would remain a creature of solitude.
Her eyes begin to course his lions. A step closer. Just a few metres away now and her demure speaks of the heritage in her blood. Powerful, strong, wise. “And what is your concept of ‘fun’, Huehuecoyotl?” Her tone of questioning lingers in the air as her eyes once more raise to reach his, emphasis on his name. He was not yet a friend of hers.
ooc: ahhh I'm super happy you like her!! <3
tags: @Huehuecoyotl
Titles deserved and the dead will not rise
It's kinda my fault when the childen all cry
