Music thrummed and carried through the air like the constant echoing scream of a banshee. That was, at least, how it seemed to the golden ears that seemed habitually flattened against Illo's golden skull. Diamond eyes flashed with the cold sincerity of distaste as she moved from the all too wanton and carefree dancing of complete strangers that surrounded her. It wasn't exactly that she disliked being around people. No, that would be the fault of the permanent being that rested in the back of her mind, scraping languidly at the veil of power that trapped the dragon in there. What irritated her dragon, often irritated her. So, with the clank of metal on cobblestone, she made a not-so-silent retreat from the street and ducked her scale covered head into a nearby tavern.She determine the tavern was sufficiently empty, compared to the streets littered with half-drunk equine that seemed determined to either waste their money on more alcohol or ware that were more often than not, worth far less than was half-drunken equine were willing to pay. Her onyx tail slithered behind her, the sound of rock on wood perhaps not giving her the elusiveness she'd hoped. Indignant of the sound, she moved along the wall and found a corner table. Perhaps she was growing tired of the bustle far faster than she'd thought? Her hope was that a few drinks might change her mood.
These days, Illo didn't exactly have much to be happy about. Her kingdom was long gone and unknown to anyone she'd met in these lands. She'd learned early on that she didn't have the control of her dragon form, as she had before. Now her dragon lay trapped beneath the skin, constantly itching for release and Illo unable to supply her with it. There was, deep down, this ache for something familiar and she somehow knew she wouldn't find that here. No, nothing was going her way lately. Nothing seemed to inspire her the way she'd been before coming here. Her fierce nature was starting seem more like that of a crochety old mare, than it was anything like the fiery determination of a ruler with a plan it used to be.
So she brooded. Her pale gaze was cold and icy toward anyone who held it. She ordered, barely uttering beyond a whisper to do so. She'd started off today feeling awkward and unsure of her place in these lands or how to socialize with these strangers. Now, however, she was coming to life; just not the way she used to. Her ire was closer to the surface than her dragon and she was beginning to lose track of just who it belonged to.
@ANY
