↞ Meira ↠
As soon as the other unicorn takes notice of her, she can see the hate brewing beneath her red gaze. Smoke trails her horn, as though it has been sliced by the makeshift dagger. This woman is a threat, the language she speaks is danger. It is blood, and violence, and rot. There is a snarl in her aura, Meira can feel it. She takes notices of the small garden lurching forward from the wood. It is so beautiful, and it abides by the bidding of this violent magician. When she speaks, it too sounds like war. Meira feels a part of her stirring. A part that she has buried as best she can. When she speaks, it is the language of death. She mourns what the forest could have been. It could have been proud instead of pillars of coloured smoke. The predator inside Meira stirs in response to this threat. Discomfort at the feeling, the ache for her to taste the blood this woman promises to water her garden with begins to swell. The feeling begs for Meira to question how dare she threaten the sea.
"Do you mourn them? Do you weep for what they could have been when you see them reduced to pillars of ash and smoke? Does it make your boil to see others celebrate the desecration of something that was once so beautiful?" Meira knows she is asking for a fight, but the dull roar of her predator is growing. It is no longer a soft buzzing, but a low rumble like the thunder of an approaching storm. None in Delumine so far had made her feel so violent. She cannot stop the surge of adrenaline any more than she can cease the rising war inside her. "What will you do? Do you intend to tear into me in the same way you sliced through the smoke? Try it. I dare you." Her rage begs the woman out loud to make the move she is silently promising to make. Meira steps closer, her own crown tipped downward. Each dagger pointing toward the curve in her neck that housed one of the most important veins. It supplied the very thing that kept the magician alive. This woman was the exact reason Meira did not like mages. Meira knew that she technically shouldn't be starting anything, but she could not allow someone to raise their hackles at her without consequence. She would deal with the consequences of tarnishing her own reputation if it came to that.
Meira is definitely threatened, and so this is how she deals with that I guess
@Danaë
"Do you mourn them? Do you weep for what they could have been when you see them reduced to pillars of ash and smoke? Does it make your boil to see others celebrate the desecration of something that was once so beautiful?" Meira knows she is asking for a fight, but the dull roar of her predator is growing. It is no longer a soft buzzing, but a low rumble like the thunder of an approaching storm. None in Delumine so far had made her feel so violent. She cannot stop the surge of adrenaline any more than she can cease the rising war inside her. "What will you do? Do you intend to tear into me in the same way you sliced through the smoke? Try it. I dare you." Her rage begs the woman out loud to make the move she is silently promising to make. Meira steps closer, her own crown tipped downward. Each dagger pointing toward the curve in her neck that housed one of the most important veins. It supplied the very thing that kept the magician alive. This woman was the exact reason Meira did not like mages. Meira knew that she technically shouldn't be starting anything, but she could not allow someone to raise their hackles at her without consequence. She would deal with the consequences of tarnishing her own reputation if it came to that.
Meira is definitely threatened, and so this is how she deals with that I guess
@Danaë
