[AW] the wolf in a lion pride

[Seraphina]

It didn’t take long for the Emissary to arrive.

Seraphina had always been a terribly good listener – quiet women often were. As she began to settle into her role as Emissary, her natural predisposition towards perceptiveness had only been honed, and she’d learned where to listen for secrets, and rumors, and, most important of all, news. She’d caught wind of the coming of the star-painted Queen of Terrastella in the days before she had arrived, perhaps as soon as her hooves graced the hot desert winds, and, in the time that followed, she had worked relentlessly on developing some sort of strategy to bring her to their side. Solis willing, they needed the Dusk Court as any ally; they’d alienated Denocte, if not provoked their aggression outright, and she’d heard little from Dawn, save that they’d offered soil for the garden – but they were hardly a nation of warriors to begin with.

As she passed through the walls surrounding the fortress, however, she found herself greeted by an offensive sight alongside the Wolf-Queen; she had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, because he would be here, wouldn’t he? How predictable. “Velorca,” She hissed through gritted teeth as she brushed by the silver stallion, eyes equal parts ice and fire narrowing fractionally at the snake of a man, because he was a snake – tragically beautiful and twice as venomous. If he’d use his words with a bit more tact, she was certain that his mind would get him places, but he seemed abrasive and outspoken by nature; she might have found his bluntness charming, if it didn’t so often seem to interfere with her own duties.

He didn’t command her attention for long, however; she dipped her head in solemn greeting to the mare. “Welcome to Solterra, Lady Rannveig. Maxence will be with you any moment.” (She hoped that he would be, anyways.) Though her tongue slipped uncomfortably over the foreign queen’s name, Seraphina’s words were simple, polite, and impossibly cold; her expression was inscrutable, and any apprehension that brewed and tangled in snaking knots in her throat was kept buried far beneath her skin. She lingered, swallowing her own impatience, and waited for her sovereign.


@Velorca @Rannveig @Maxence ahahahahhahahaha I have no muse right now sorry that this is awful <3