09-03-2015, 11:36 PM
Sunday can feel the shift well before the meeting is called. There's something in the air the last few days that has left the mare at ill ease. In her bones there's something amiss, but she cannot place her finger on it. Her powers are not so omnipotent, she is no magician. She simply had...well...she's unsure. No one really knows.
When Lagertha calls out, Sunday can sense the unease in her voice. The general is a stoic woman, she is a skilled warrioress that could outpace anyone. For her emotions to be so clearly on her sleeve? Sunday wastes no time in making her way through the Jungle.
Each step she sees colors leaking from the ground, from the trees, from the small gathering. The colors are colors she associates with grief and pain and misery. It sends a shudder down her spine.
She finds the Khalessi then and sees and feels the pain rolling off her. The little heart beats in her belly are going a mile a minute and their stress is evident. Dystocia, the word comes to her but means nothing. She is instantly at her side, a muzzle on the queen's shoulder, her energy pulsating into her sister.
What energy? Sunday doesn't know. She hasn't harnessed her powers, she's barely had them a few years. She just knows that in moments like this it's best to let her instincts kick in. Her eyes close and the energy that flows from her is calming, it's peaceful, it's healing. Will it help with the pain? Will it help with the birth? She can only wait and see.
When Lagertha calls out, Sunday can sense the unease in her voice. The general is a stoic woman, she is a skilled warrioress that could outpace anyone. For her emotions to be so clearly on her sleeve? Sunday wastes no time in making her way through the Jungle.
Each step she sees colors leaking from the ground, from the trees, from the small gathering. The colors are colors she associates with grief and pain and misery. It sends a shudder down her spine.
She finds the Khalessi then and sees and feels the pain rolling off her. The little heart beats in her belly are going a mile a minute and their stress is evident. Dystocia, the word comes to her but means nothing. She is instantly at her side, a muzzle on the queen's shoulder, her energy pulsating into her sister.
What energy? Sunday doesn't know. She hasn't harnessed her powers, she's barely had them a few years. She just knows that in moments like this it's best to let her instincts kick in. Her eyes close and the energy that flows from her is calming, it's peaceful, it's healing. Will it help with the pain? Will it help with the birth? She can only wait and see.
SUNDAY
the amazons magickal mare
the amazons magickal mare