So, I suck.
I suck in the way that I was recruited forever ago, and spent most of my days fuming over events beyond the borderline.
Isn’t it a good thing those problems just don’t exist anymore?
So to hear the call of Lagertha, well, I needed something to occupy my mind with now.
I await as Turkish slinks from the trunk of a tree and weaves himself over to my body. He still looks slightly overweight from his abnormally large meal, but at least he will not be hunting rabbits and meadocre meals for the next while.
He is slow to wrap himself around my neck, lazy and practically useless. His body also weighs a large amount more, so obviously that I lower my neck slightly to compensate for the weight. He is why I am so muscularly built.
I walk, because I still feel full too regardless of my equine form. It feels weird, to feel my heart beating and know my mother helped contribute to such. She will be apart of me now, instead of the consistent white elephant she always was. Now, she has to be with me. No choice.
I am late to the show, part of me figured I would be. Just in time to hear Lagertha speak, but clearly not the first one to appear. I quietly meander to the side of a sister I have yet to meet, eyeing the spirit with a shrill of paranoia. Will the spirit except the monster I am becoming?
It becomes my turn almost too quickly, and my stomach lightly flips. Turkish—awake by now and slightly amused by my discomfort—has lifted his head to admire the ghost before him. He is always entertained by magic and paranormal activity; the world undiscovered entices him.
“To the Jungle, I swear my service, to the best of my ability. To this kingdom, I swear my body and my blood. To my Sisters, I swear my loyalty and love, for all the days of my life,” I mimic in a confident tone, wavering as the emerald eyes of the cat glance over to my familiar and then back to me. It senses me.
I am exposed.
I feel a heavy air onset to me as the black spirit elegantly walks closer to my frame. I can feel it’s aura waft over me like a strong fragrance.
“You are finding yourself, because someone allowed you to lose yourself. In doing so, you have become irresponsibly strong, and for that you will learn how to handle such a commitment. Snakes, for your strength, intelligence, and resiliance. Swords, for your undeniable talent to serve.”
My front legs begin to mould colours and lines. Bright emerald green boa’s swirl up until they meet in the centre of my chest, both trapping the handle of swords that form a large broad X from shoulder to shoulder, light red blood dripping down their blades. I tense.
It knew.
And it excepted me.
Smother has been kicking around for awhile, but with me being back from my away and her having not actually devoted herself to the jungle, I figured I would add this to the thread
thanks!