kids sure like the devil these days [warrick/longclaw/any]

[wound]

A lthough she is not a member of the guard or battalion, Wound also patrols the borders of Tephra. Her reasons are different from theirs — to search for new recruits, to watch for her daughter’s arrival, to enjoy a peaceful walk along the shore — but she cannot deny tendrils of worry burrow in her gut with the tension that rests across Beqanna. Her worry transcribes into endless walks along her kingdom’s shoreline. When she isn’t resting or eating or chatting with other Tephrans, she is walking over rocky beaches and skirting around the foothills of their volcano and splashing through shallow tide pools. Despite Warrick lifting the lockdown, they are still on high alert. That fact is even more obvious as Wound arrives. She comes to a halt on the other side of the osprey-king (offering a gentle nod toward the metal-clad colt) after coming away from the shadow of the forest with her characteristic lopsided walk. There’s an equally lopsided expression on her face — a mingled look of both carefulness and friendliness. These could be spies from Sylva and Loess, or perhaps they are simply newcomers looking for a home. The Head of Peace offers a soft touch of her nose to Warrick’s wither, just in front of the appendage of his navy wing, before turning her coffee eyes toward the pair of mares. “And I’m Wound.” She offers her name but nothing more, certain that Warrick and Kromium have already said anything she might’ve contributed to the conversation.

credit to nat of adoxography.

@[Harmonia] / @[Warrick] / @[Kromium]