Each footstep left a trail of frost, a glistening swath of rime in her wake, creeping up the pale skeletons of long dead trees. It blanketed her sides, working crystalline patterns onto a wrought iron coat. It collected and grew, burying her in a winter of her own doing, dazzling shards rising from her skin in awful spikes. Even still she could feel the disturbance, her amethyst squirming like a misbehaving child, reacting to the temptation of the master who had chosen to set foot within her Isles. Ears slipped back along her frozen nape, mind flooded with memories of what the southern lands had been when she had first come here. A writhing, sickly mess of shadows, living and stationary. A remnant left over from the poison Rapier had spewed so readily from her skin. Long were the hours spent chasing those beings from island shores, aquamarine more than eager to zap into nonexistance. And while she could freely admit that she had failed in her duties (something that should have been no surprise really), allowing the kingdom to fall into disrepair and the silence of the grave, she was still loathe to allow it to return to what it had been. Gods, be damned.
Glacial armor shifted upon her frame, crystalline plates clinking against one another as she rocked back upon her haunches, muscles screaming at the sudden decision to change from the pace she had so long adopted. It didn't matter that she bore Elyria's stone, was able to teleport where she wished, even if that "someplace" was right beside the God of Darkness himself. It didn't matter that she could carried Aprillia's stone, what had caused her own immortality, allowing her to pause and walk freely amongst the fabric of time. She stilled preferred to get there by her own power, something about walking (or cantering as the case may be) soothing the need to remember what it was like to be fully mortal once.
Rising the hill, she peered down at the large stallion, the glimmer of sunlight creating something fearsome out of the grey blue eyes and the collar of spikes springing from her iced over coat. She was no Iron Lady, no Elizabeth set to sink an Armada, but this was her home and she would do whatever she needed to keep it from returning to what it once was. Even if it meant facing down a God.
Get out.
The words were as venomous and slick as a viper's fangs, carrying easily through the desolate landscape and the otherwise silence that lingered though were meant for one being and one being only. Dancer's legs carried her closer with every carefully placed step, eyes blazing with a fire that yesterday had seemed to be a long abandoned spark, sputtering and fading in the grief that consumed her. Her attention held to the ink coated stallion, ears folded back and buried in the spidersilk mane, though she was plenty aware of the other two bodies involved in this stand off of sorts. One was the buckskin Serafina, Concile and confidant to the little grey queen at her worst. The other, ragged and worn by time and season, smelled of Synyster, a friend long disappeared from the landscape. The differences from the last time she had seen the similiarly colored stud to now were shocking, something she was finding hard to wrap her mind around, an idea that she would likely need to cerebrate on. She had to wonder if he knew of Zach's death and numerous other things that came to mind, but they would have to wait until later. She didn't intend to be rude or unwelcoming to one's she had called friends, but as of that moment there was a much larger, black hearted fish to fry.
tia maria
Take your time. Do or die
We only have a moment now. |
