10-10-2016, 11:01 AM
Lagertha hardly needed an excuse to be angry. Ah, well, perhaps <i>angry</i> isn’t the right word. Bitter. Resentful. Skeptical. Annoyed. Ah, fuck it – Lagertha rolls in shades of angry. The only thing that changes is what she’s angry about.
All that anger is awfully useful for a General. Fuel for the fire, or something like that. Right now, the fire that burns is a desire to have her armor back. The gray, scarred mare is perfectly capable of fighting without her armor, but there’s a certain comfort in knowing that she always has protection in her back pocket. They don’t need any sort of ‘protection’ right now, but old habits die painfully slow, and as she hauls herself up the Mountain, there is a sort of tingling in her legs. Is it…?
Her thoughts provide the impetus, and a thin, layer of iron chainmail surges up her forelegs. Lagertha laughs out loud – a cry of joy which echoes across the sparsely populated plateau. She pauses, somewhere between halfway and three-quarters of the way up the mountain. Appropriately, she can only force the armor to cover a little more the half of her body. It is no matter – she doesn’t want to wear it for the trek, anyway. The air is getting thinner, and Lagertha has a feeling she will need more and more energy, the higher she climbs.
The armor is worth it.
For now – a pause to catch her breath. It wasn’t too long ago that she was running from Monsters in the Upside Down, half-starved from stress and exhaustion, and lack of food. Wouldn’t want to overdo it on the eve of regaining her powers.
[I steal all your ponies.]
All that anger is awfully useful for a General. Fuel for the fire, or something like that. Right now, the fire that burns is a desire to have her armor back. The gray, scarred mare is perfectly capable of fighting without her armor, but there’s a certain comfort in knowing that she always has protection in her back pocket. They don’t need any sort of ‘protection’ right now, but old habits die painfully slow, and as she hauls herself up the Mountain, there is a sort of tingling in her legs. Is it…?
Her thoughts provide the impetus, and a thin, layer of iron chainmail surges up her forelegs. Lagertha laughs out loud – a cry of joy which echoes across the sparsely populated plateau. She pauses, somewhere between halfway and three-quarters of the way up the mountain. Appropriately, she can only force the armor to cover a little more the half of her body. It is no matter – she doesn’t want to wear it for the trek, anyway. The air is getting thinner, and Lagertha has a feeling she will need more and more energy, the higher she climbs.
The armor is worth it.
For now – a pause to catch her breath. It wasn’t too long ago that she was running from Monsters in the Upside Down, half-starved from stress and exhaustion, and lack of food. Wouldn’t want to overdo it on the eve of regaining her powers.
[I steal all your ponies.]