01-05-2018, 07:54 PM
Merida
from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken
Her eyes are staring off into blackness, fixated on something unseen in the distance as she reminisces. Her daughter - Kuma - where was she? Merida hadn’t cared to try and find her, for her loyalty now lies with that of the shifters she had met, consumed by the raw power it gave her to be with a powerful family, the one that Crevan told her she belonged to. She is a failed mother - quite deserving of a bad omen. She even remembers the icy pond, crashing through the surface and being rescued by two purple and ebony children, twisted in their own sick way - but their rescue was not without a price, and Merida had offered her tracking skills to find them someone else to play with besides herself. To this day she does not even remember the name of the child she had found them to torture, and she did not stay long enough to find out of the child survived the experience. She brought an innocent creature to slaughter - deserving of not only a bad omen, but even death. After a long while, the fox finally glances back at the raven, ears casually tipped backwards. “We’ve all done things,” she murmurs quietly, and quickly her eyes fall away from him. She did not want to linger on the topic any longer. Instead she rises from her sitting position, shaking herself from snout to tail, and smoothing her orange fur with all the gracefulness of a feline.
“You say very strange things, little bird.” She tilts her head when she says this, her red gaze now curious as he mentions Sylva and an army, as if he is in charge of those who belong to it. Her brow furrows and she stands, padding up to him on slender paws to stand just beneath his perch. “But you offer a good deal - tonight I am not to trick you and tonight you will not allow me to be visited by death.” She smiles to allow the fear of death to hide behind it.
“Who are you that gives you such insight to Sylva, let alone an army?”
She pauses, all of her still save for the tiny flick of her white-tipped tail. She cannot decide if she is army material - she has never battled in her life - but the idea of a trickster, a cunning foe within the darkness with stealth and silence...well, that is a different story. She has been doing that for most of her life. He is but a raven - what army would rally behind that? A thought strikes her, that had not crossed her mind until this moment, and she almost feels silly for not having asked it sooner.
“Who are you, behind the lithe bone and feathered wings?”
Quickly, after surveying him for a moment with a steady burning gaze, she leaps away and jumps from rock to rock, hitting the forest floor with a soft thud. She turns and looks up at the tree, for she knows it will only be a matter of moments before he asks her the same question.
@[Dahmer]