i don't believe in saints
they never make mistakes
Perhaps her gaze never quite allows itself to trace Marisol’s features, focused instead on some miniscule point far beyond Asterion’s shoulder, but she is all business otherwise -- she dips her head to Marisol’s approach with a clipped but welcoming “Commander,” the faintest blush beneath her pale fur perhaps the only evidence of their all-too-recent encounter, and even that might be attributed to the chill of the wind-soaked air around them.
She doesn’t understand why the sound of Mari’s voice, dripping with some sort of inside meaning between herself and Asterion, makes her stomach churn and her chest catch fire with warmth -- and even so, she has no time to even consider what such a thing might mean. A distant cry catches her attention, ears perking forward --
“What was that?”
--- but there is no waiting for a reply. The cadet has already pivoted on her heel and launched herself from the parapets, a streak of pale lightning rapidly swallowed by the storm. There was no time to debate such questions, not when the floods hit so quick and deadly, and so many of their people were still unaccounted for as the storm raged on. A hard knot of fear has rested itself within her chest since the first reports of flooding had come in, with no time to consider what it might have meant, no time to hesitate or even take a moment to warm herself by the offered fire.
This is the wrath of the gods, the inevitable progression of whatever events had occurred within the Summit, and she will not allow Terrastella to suffer beneath a punishment they have not earned.
She spots the pair even as the wind tries to tear her off-course, bright copper and amethyst amongst muddy water, and there is no second-guessing. Her wings fold to her body and she allows herself to fall, to lose altitude until she splashes down into the raging waters like a stone. “We’re here,” The words are full of a confidence she doesn’t quite feel, ignorant to the jetsam that bashes into her slender legs, and she sets her shoulder against the mare’s haunches and gives a mighty push that she does her best to time with the copper male’s pulls from the other side.
She doesn’t understand why the sound of Mari’s voice, dripping with some sort of inside meaning between herself and Asterion, makes her stomach churn and her chest catch fire with warmth -- and even so, she has no time to even consider what such a thing might mean. A distant cry catches her attention, ears perking forward --
“What was that?”
--- but there is no waiting for a reply. The cadet has already pivoted on her heel and launched herself from the parapets, a streak of pale lightning rapidly swallowed by the storm. There was no time to debate such questions, not when the floods hit so quick and deadly, and so many of their people were still unaccounted for as the storm raged on. A hard knot of fear has rested itself within her chest since the first reports of flooding had come in, with no time to consider what it might have meant, no time to hesitate or even take a moment to warm herself by the offered fire.
This is the wrath of the gods, the inevitable progression of whatever events had occurred within the Summit, and she will not allow Terrastella to suffer beneath a punishment they have not earned.
She spots the pair even as the wind tries to tear her off-course, bright copper and amethyst amongst muddy water, and there is no second-guessing. Her wings fold to her body and she allows herself to fall, to lose altitude until she splashes down into the raging waters like a stone. “We’re here,” The words are full of a confidence she doesn’t quite feel, ignorant to the jetsam that bashes into her slender legs, and she sets her shoulder against the mare’s haunches and gives a mighty push that she does her best to time with the copper male’s pulls from the other side.
@Random Events @Vhet @Virun @
she wasn't looking for a knight,
she was looking for a sword.
she was looking for a sword.
