and when i breathed
my breath was lightning
She spends less and less time in the Jungle as a horse. It doesn’t feel right to her anymore, though she doesn’t entirely know why. So many things have come together to change her, and she doesn’t like the darkness creeping into her heart. It isn’t her, not really. But it is. Oh, of course it’s her. She’s electric with claws and teeth, and she’s already dead. What does she have to fear? Why does she insist so constantly on peace, on the right side?
She could be so much more than that. But does she really want to? Does she want to be Straia, gaining power through fear? She could. Oh, she certainly could. But is it worth it? The problem is that part of her thinks so. And the rest of her is screaming.
As a lioness though, these thoughts simply disappear. Her feline self doesn’t care about politics or the impending war or anything else. She simply slinks through the Jungle, running into various other (native) cats now and again. And sometimes she even finds the Jungle spirit, and she’s pretty sure the jaguar has taken to watching Rhy somewhat cautiously. The mare is becoming less predictable, and certainly, the Jungle spirit knows this.
No one else knows though. Not even Lagertha. Rhy doesn’t let on, doesn’t let it show on her face. So when she spots the stranger in the middle of their home, she shifts back, and her nicker is friendly. Rhy, unlike Lagertha, doesn’t treat trespassers quite so harshly when they don’t smell like another kingdom. “Hi, I’m Rhy. Can I help you?”
rhy
the electric lioness of riagan and rayelle
