SHE-WOLF.
Spring was tentative this year, it's warmth slowly eating away at the frigid winter until one day, suddenly, it arrived. Wildflowers bloomed and Delumine turned into a veritable artwork of poppies, wild bergamot and fiery milkweed. Everything seemed to have new life breathed into it, new vigour — including Liesel.
Her Winter troubles (and romances) were gone, leaving behind a daisy blooming in the rich dark earth of her toils. Even the sun seemed loathe to leave her soft skin, dancing and wavering over each lithe, knotted muscle and casting her in shades of lilac and sapphire with each step. Unbeknownst to Liesel, her life had always been sunshine sweet, blessed as she was to be born The Blue Wolf's first daughter. He had cherished her even as he ignored others, doted upon her as he waged war against opposing territories, stole daughters the same age as she to add to his harem.
And the ocean...
Oh the ocean had embraced her as a daughter of The Blue Wolf, kissed her hooves and made her smile as she experienced first love, consoled her when her heart had been broken — and stole her away before death could claim her. Now she was the sole daughter of her fathers legacy, and she didn't even know it. It showed in her carriage, though, in her grace and that boundless beauty shining along every razor-lined inch of her.
In her golden lupine eyes.
It showed as she grinned at the sleek, handsome man staring her down across the Steppe.
"I hope you aren't expecting me to take it easy on you, just because you're a girl.”
Liesel beamed as her voice chimed and sang across the field:
"I'd be insulted if you did!"
She felt each muscle, shifting from hoof to hoof actively, her telekineses slowly pulling back her ocean waves into a loose bun. She assessed him, her lupine gaze sliding from head to hoof with a practiced technique. He was slim, but not skinny. Trim, in shape, not a hair or feather out of place.
I can fix that.
Her lithe frame moved swiftly, each limb perfectly shifting and bending to send her shooting like an arrow toward Aion — a single target, a full on attack. Or so he thinks. Galloping now, Liesel showed no signs of slowing, her golden gaze set gleamingly on her elegant opponent, she drew closer, closer... She was going to hit him! Each feather on Aion's head gleamed in the light as she shifted at the last moment, propelling herself past the slender Sage and pivoting. Agility and speed were her partners, making up for her lithe, toned body that lacked in brute strength — she was fluid like saltwater. Her pivot should have positioned her behind and facing Aion and she lashed out with her razor-edged hooves to take advantage of that — neat, hard, practical, aiming for his fetlock and hocks to take his legs out of play. SPARKLING LIKE SUNSHINE
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