Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Despite her careless attempts at provocation, the two large creatures remained unmoving. Neither seemed willing to yield ground to the other, and the edge of barely restrained violence between them was razor-sharp. A wrong move, a wrong word could cause the muscular bodies to erupt into chaos. Yet the black male kept a tight rein on the fury evident in his gaze, doing nothing more than keeping himself between the spotted mare and the young girl. More than anything, that was what led Kirel to look again and with greater care. Her dark eyes stole glimpses of the small, slender body without knowing what she was looking for, ears flicking forward briefly when the stallion spoke. You could leave and let us have our silence. And there was anger in those words, as the red woman would have expected — but a slight edge that may have been desperation, too. Perhaps he was no more than a father seeking to protect his child, but… Black and red. A towering body that so easily concealed one far more delicate and small. Not even the color of their eyes was the same. It was certainly possible for a child to favor one parent in appearance, but everywhere Kirel looked for similarities, she found only differences. Just like— “Oh hells,” she spat, ears flattening into her mane and the unspoken language of her body shifting from annoyance to outright aggression. This brutish creature resembled the child behind him as little as she’d resembled her so-called ‘mother’, though the ways in which they were different had been reversed. At just over a year of age, Kirel had already stood as tall as the woman who’d stolen her. By the time the seasons cycled again, she’d towered over her, and understood the truth revealed by their lack of resemblance. Feeling the hollow ache of the life she’d never known, Kvothe’s daughter stepped forward, baring her teeth at the dark stallion. “You don’t deserve peace, monster.” Kirel snarled, eyes flitting briefly to the little dun with the curious gaze. “Not for the crime you’ve committed. Not for the anguish you’ve inflicted on the ones whose loss became your own selfish gain.” She couldn’t remember what they’d been like, those first days that’d followed her dissection from her dam’s side. But she remembered the seasons and years that had come since. The gnawing ache like hunger that remained with her to this day. The sharpness of anger that was whetted by her broken edges — edges that would never, could never heal. And she wasn’t about to stand aside and allow another to suffer the same pain. Taking another step towards the shadowy stranger, Kirel’s dark gaze held his, and her tail lashed the air in emphasis to her words. “I will give you this one chance, cur. Put it back where you took it from, or suffer the consequences of your terrible decision.” ![]() |