it decides who's left
Despite her prolonged issues with insomnia, there was something about the night that sung the song of her soul. The moon called to her heart, to her wolf from its blanket of ebony amid the sparkling stars. Though amongst the shadows were her darkest moments, beneath the light of the moon she also felt most alive. It brought her memories the forest floor beneath her paws, the trees blurring as she races through them, of listening to her father’s orchestra from a cavern behind a waterfall stained with silver light.
Morrighan- a woman of fire and fight, or so Castalla’s sources had told her. In the absence of her concentration the Wolf had not identified her on site. Inwardly she curses herself but the corner of her mouth curves up in a slight smile. “It’s a pleasure,” she offers though the wryness in her voice suggests she wishes it were under different circumstances.
Soldier. The word sat oddly with her. All her life she’d been a pivotal power in Alanaris, revered and feared and always known. Being a soldier, being another cog in the wheel where her face was unknown, her name just a name- it would take some getting used to. And the Wolf had yet to decide whether she preferred it, the anonymity and lack of responsibility that came with simply following order. Though doing what she was told was not exactly the woman’s forte.
”Yeah, and about a couple of months now. Were you a soldier before you became Warden?” Castalla was glad for the distraction of her thoughts, appreciating the other woman’s presence despite being practically strangers.
@Morrighan <3
