Desert
Leaders: Nyimara, Asmodeus, Quinn
Stallions: None
Mares: Kara, Kohelet, Rhaynira, Syrax
Foals: Cahyr
Posted on November 18, 2021 at 09:56:30 PM by ANATH
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Anath knew of being a legend, and she knew it well. There had been a time where she’d been a petulant girl, a thorn in the side of power within the Islands. It was the man that lived here, within the Desert, that detested her most of all. He’d done his damnedest to put her down, to put her in the dirt. To make her believe that she was less than. Because she’d been a girl, she was less by birthright-- that had never sat right with her. That would never sit right with her. The silvered creature that lived here in her youth was another one of her ghosts, and he was the one that she hated the very most. She knew rage. It was something that had taken hold of her on more than one occasion, ripped her from the comfort of her own mind and her own thoughts. Many years had passed since that rage gripped Anath’s system-- she’d learned how to control it. She’d learned how to control herself, and how to harness that power. In rage, Anath found that power. There was power in rage, there was power in chaos. Times had shifted and changed. Anath had changed, and she hadn’t. From far off, she’d been sighted. There was a dark creature against the horizon, a figure that closed the distance with a fierceness and a quickness over the sands-- Anath knows it well. She knows it so well. It took practice to cross the Desert like that, with the shifting ground beneath your feet. The champagne mare had been raised by the Salem iself, and had practiced over and over as a child. Though she doesn’t have the arid climate in her blood, Anath holds it in her heart. Closing the gap. A spray of pebbles and sand as she stopped-- she. The way the mare carries herself, Anath considers that she may be a queen in her own right. Oswin told her that the women could take lands on their own now… maybe this would be the first time that the ragged old general would meet one. Green eyes shining in the Desert sun, she gazes at the woman with silver hair. Friend or foe? There was no malice from Anath, but the caution of the stranger is something she can’t hold against her. She remains carefully relaxed. “Neither,” Anath paused for a beat. “Only a ghost.” Really, she was a ghost of this place. That was all she was to the Desert now, another one for its collection of ghosts. Gloryhound, Lothor, her father, Narcolepsy, Sanctus, all of them. Every single one of them, lost to the sands of time. Standing here, Anath felt as if she was too. Anath "HEROES GET REMEMBERED LEGENDS NEVER DIE " |
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- Not all who wander are lost; - By Nyimara December 13, 2021 at 06:45:05 PM
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