Rarely did Avdotya linger so close to the Capitol as she did on this particular day, but with the rumblings of horses now stepping into power, her curiosity had drawn her near. Her eyes took in the silhouette of the old acropolis on the horizon and a touch of disdain fell upon the crooks of her cracked lips; the memories, though old, still toiled in her mind as if they were weaved but a day before. Her last recollection of the place was the pool of royal blood she'd spilled upon pristine floors so many moons ago, when the halls were still brimming with activity and chaos had taken hold. Now, it was but a dormant shell of its glory days- a pity, really, though Avdotya was much more keen on seeing it as a musty old relic than a roost for a cockerel parading himself as a wolf. Now, however, it seemed like the dust was about to be brushed from the Capitol floors and polished for a new leader. And how fortunate was she to be one of the first to hear his bellowing call roll across the dunes, inviting any willing to listen to his appeal. The woman puffed a cynical snort past her sand-ridden nostrils, but listened anyways. His pitch had flare, she could not deny him that. Finally Avdotya came near enough to make something of the man, rather than just a winged figure in the distance. He appeared strong and able-bodied, but appearances meant little here. She slithered close, within his sights and then tipped her nose to the cloudless sky so her own eyes could meet his from her position down below. "And we are to follow you like sheep would their shepherd? Who is to say you won't lead us to slaughter like Sovereigns of old?" Her voice boomed back, sharp and biting, challenging him to convince her that his pretty head was worthy of the crown he sought. |