her life was a littered graveyard of things that once had mattered much more than they ever should have or had right to. she was not always so easy to slough off the worries and cares that plagued others. she once had loyalty and investment that overcame her intense survival instinct… but then the loss of glorall’s island, glorall herself, the south of moladion, moladion itself, even so far as a years travel from it’s borders, and lastly the imprint of ravan (ever loyal and strong). it had reaffirmed the need to be especially unattached.
no one was strong enough to keep her world intact, not even herself, so why belong to any one world at all?
well, for one, she loved her island home… recently rumored to being named Riopat. It made her smile to think that it had at last been given a name. it was fine on the tongue, just sharp enough without too many consonants to halt its flow.
and now, well, the white beast that bows his head to her as she lays in the sand.
she wasn’t sure what to make of her attachment to him other than there had originally been simple thankfulness that he had allowed her home, that the rumors of her family’s madness had not had her turned away at the metaphorical door, much less the familial tie to the throne after such a recent challenge to his right as alpha…
he had not needed to believe her - many alphas would not have, would not have cared how clearly she was not made for war and constant proving ground struggles to keep a land beneath her.
she was made for sea breezes, yes, but not meant to command them; she was not meant to be dictating order and rule when she was not able to defend those she was above. she was still that little lithe messenger girl with exotic body and gemstone faceted eyes, the one who was only meant to get from point a to point b in the swiftest manner afforded to one whose gait was rather unique.
made to grab birds on the wing and harry the hares before dispatching them just outside their little warrens. speed and survival were her only tools and she would not survive long if she were on a throne. the question truly was whether that should stop her from pursuing the curious tingle in her belly at watching the alpha shake the water from himself, watching him take the gull apart, watching him clean his muzzle idly with a little turn as if to spare her some sort of sensibility other ladies must have had about gore.
she was the child of a dragon and it teased a grin to the corner of her mouth that he should be so clearly polite.
“All the way over there? I would feel bad with you so far from the rest of us. We could always find you something... closer. Temporarily, of course, if that's what you'd like.”
he offers what she had hoped, at least in that part of her that still had the compatibility with having hopes for romance. she takes his proffered meal and worries at it with the front of her teeth, gnawing at the strips of meat on the ribs that seem to straggle and splay where it had been torn apart. nibbles, not scarfing when he had so clearly tried to be more suitable to ‘fine dining’.
“i think that would be, maybe, something to consider...” she led cautiously, not overt in her intent if only to spare herself the embarrassment of his potential disinterest. “though where, I do not know. i have no friends as yet… current company excepted, and i am my only colleague in the velites.” her ears flick at the half-truth, at the fact that she was not so disagreeable to dislike anyone who might become her neighbor, but she lets the statement stand.
it felt wrong to connive, to even encourage him towards an end she could not be certain would appeal to him. what of his tastes? she had not first thought of what he might feel to put aside his mate, one she has heard has been with him since puphood. mates do not often put one another aside, not without the compulsion of imprints -- and of that she was certain they were not. she had seen him too often to have not felt the bond.
“maybe in the forests, even if it is close to the front lines… i have a talent for the hunting of fowl, so it would be pleasant to be nearest where I might hunt.”
THE LAST DAUGHTER OF MIROVIS
female | 8 years | 37 inches | 91 pounds
velite of glorall | fond of tesseract
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