Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Her anger carried her across the sea, as it had carried Kirel for years. It was not the only thing to sustain her, though the red woman had clung to it for long enough that it felt like an old friend. A comfort amidst the uncertainty that faced her when she reached the dark mass that reared from the ocean ahead. And Kirel had had more than enough of uncertainty in the time she’d spent on this earth. Ever since the moment of her first breath, a moment that almost hadn’t been. Following her twin into the world, the roan girl’s tie to her dam had severed too early. She was barely alive when Kvothe had delivered her — wet with blood and the waters of her own birth — onto the Lagoon’s soft, damp soil. The Lagoon. The warmth of her twin pressed into her side. The soothing caress of her mother’s tongue over her skin. She felt a fresh surge of outrage, clawing at the waves as if they were what had stolen those things from her. In truth, there was no outlet great enough for all the bitterness Kirel felt. It’d been caged inside of her since she was torn from her mother’s side, a child too weak and frightened to fight the nipping teeth of her so-called savior. Now, the thickly-built woman towered over most of her own kind, and never hesitated to use both size and strength to her advantage. But she could not forget how it’d felt to be herded away from the life she’d been intended for. To be seized mercilessly by life’s tide and thrust into an ever-changing sea of names, places, and circumstances. From this point forward — whatever else may come — the spotted mare was determined to be the author of her own destiny. She’d swam far in the time that her thoughts had taken hold. By the time Kirel resurfaced, the indistinguishable shadow on the horizon had resolved itself into the shape of an island. On one end, the jagged fangs of mountains cut up into the sky, their tips already capped with white. On the other— The chestnut mare felt a fluttering in her belly when her eyes found the densely-tangled trees that shielded the Lagoon from sight. Home. And between, an expanse of open meadow interspersed with the occasional persistent cut of forest. It was for the shore of this neutral no-man’s-land that the mare headed, shaking the seawater from her coat as carelessly as she might a swarm of flies. It would not be as simple as walking back into the Lagoon, Kirel knew. Nothing in life was ever simple, and nothing was ever given for free. She could not expect to return to the life that was stolen from her by strolling in and claiming it. No, there was every likelihood that she would need to take back what was hers by force. And for the roan woman who’d been punished for crimes her forefathers committed — who’d become a victim of a war she’d been too young to comprehend — it would be a welcome break from years spent damming her anger behind a wall of restraint. Lifting her head and her hooves high, the Lagoon’s daughter disappeared into the trees, and began to carve her own path forward. For the moment, that path led her towards the sound of rushing water. Thirst burned her throat with every breath, and the remnants of the sea’s salty water itched where it’d begun to dry into her coat. Stepping through the dim gray shadows of twilight, Kirel approached the pool that marked the Falls and drank deeply. And after her thirst was slaked she continued forward, letting the water rise up to cover her broad back. Sighing softly, she let her dark eyes drift closed and soaked in a moment of rare peace. After all, it could well be one of the last she’d enjoy before things here came to their end. ![]() |