City
Static pop and crackle of magic echoes within her freckled ears – she’s been successful and thus the battles will begin. Beqanna has come far from where she was in the days of City’s fluid childhood. Faces are contorted with anguish; nostrils are fluttering and hooves pawing at the dirty, cold ground, there is a wave of elastic tension pulling over them now.. The oblong stones that are blackened and wrapped in thorny vines drag and float into place; the ring is set. City blows a hard breath from her nose, her ears lying flat and her yellow eyes flitting from body to body, drinking them in. They’re almost all much bigger and meatier compared the bony, somewhat lithe frame of City.
She’s been fighting bigger, meatier, dick-wielding opponents all of her life. Her mother had raised her with all the knowledge of a retired Chamber General and no excuses were ever allowed to be made, a hardship the warrioress is now thankful for. The jewel-eyed woman who once stalked the long gone jungles of this ever morphing land had taught her as much in her adulthood as her mother did when she was young. The Valley, her final home before Kingdoms finally fell and ancient ties broke away, had given her the closing details. She is a warrior of the old Beqanna, a native of the ancient veins that used to pump the heart of this darkly magical hunk of earth. There are many like her, Carnage sees to that every Fall and has since forever was ever a thing.
So far though, she sees no kin here.
The steely stallion’s voice pitches over the roar of scoring hooves and slamming chests. Stallion’s threw themselves at her, coming between her and the approaching draft – it is Orion, she sees clearly now. At first she wants to hurl herself at him, teach him, fold his big body or at least cut him just a little; he does something peculiar though and positions himself beside her. She wants so badly to hate him, really, she does, but for whatever reason the fates just won’t allow it. Since the first time she laid her cold Sulphur eyes on him she thought him an oaf, too soft, too gentle – but still she ended up following him home (sort of). And then now. He guards her as if with pity, or fear for her porcelain skin (ha!) and her angelic innocence. Strategy will only let her accept his help, how dumb would it be to chase him off, eh?
Save him for the end, little snake, he’ll be delicious; you’ll see.
She barely pays any mind to the prisoner being thrown in just for fodder. She notes her desire to find out where he is from, why he is here, but does not make any move to attack him just yet. Her teeth gnash, her forelegs gouge and her hind batters with powerful kicks. Her favorite move being to grab someone delicate ear or the sensitive bridge of their nose and trip them, or try to. Once on the ground it’s hard to get back up, especially if she has the help of gray shrek…
rushed and filled with all I found
more, give me more, give me more
full of errors, but you get the point XD
<33
