sunshine, won't you be my mother? || ALL

[wound]

A lthough the current peace in Beqanna is well-received, Wound cannot help but wonder if this is the calm before the storm. Tephra’s borders are swollen with new life while the world past their island sings a soft tune. She has only spent a year among the throng of Beqanna’s active life (the first six had been spent under the protection of her gang of brothers, and the other two years wandering independently), but Wound knows already that the politics of their homeland are frequent to unexpected shifts. She is grateful, nonetheless, for Warrick’s call that rides on the summer breeze. Wound has spent the majority of the day with her daughter, dancing among lava streams and chasing each other through grassy hills. They are playing a game with the waves when the sound of Wishbone’s father reaches their ears, faint against the shout of the ocean. “Wishbone, there’s an important meeting we must go to.” Her wild daughter tousles in the waves a moment later, caught up in the disregard a child in a moment of joy often has. But Wound is quick to correct Wishbone regardless, and soon they are making their way to the gathering. Wound weaves between the gathered with a sunny smile on her face, allowing Wishbone to run off to tease and wrestle with the other children of Tephra. The silver bay especially greets those she has brought in from the Field’s foreign clearings — Saedis and Enniska and Epithet and Raewen — if they show their faces. Wound can remember her own first meeting clearly and the swirls of doubt and nervousness that chilled her insides. She ends up settling among the throng, watching Warrick as he moves between the crowd and speaks as a friend. Her heart swells with affection as the stallion touches his dark nose against Wishbone’s mane and their daughter nips playfully at his shoulder in a genuine, loving reaction. Her attention turns back to his words as Warrick speaks of their alliances and the upcoming friendly battle. She has no desire — nor the physical skill — to tousle with other warriors of opposing kingdoms. Wound would much prefer to travel between the kingdoms peacefully and offer comfortable relations between borders and thrones. In fact, Wound plans to leave for Hyaline in the next morning with Wishbone in tow, to strengthen the alliance and see how the other kingdom is faring. She waits for their Overseer to finish his piece before approaching him personally, silver forelock tossed between coffee brown eyes. Her limp is less apparent today, with the heat of summer warming her joints, and the anxieties that used to douse her flame are seemingly invisible. Wound greets Warrick with a friendly kiss to the plane of his cheek, a smile on the corners of her lips. “Warrick, you spoke well. I’m proud to see how well Tephra is faring under your guidance.” The words are true; she is proud with how far he has come and how far their island has journeyed as well. But aside from that, Wound has worked hard herself for the benefit of Tephra. And, although Wound is by no means power-hungry, she would like to be able to serve her kingdom in larger ways. “Although I am not fit for war, I’d like to be considered for the Ambassador position.”

credit to nat of adoxography.

@[Warrick] Wound's tossing in her name for the Ambassador position <33