She is so, so angry.
It’s so fucking rich for Sahm to have come back now. Just in time to be completely and utterly useless. Where had he been when he’d actually been needed? Where had he been when the Chamber had raided and Gryffen had kidnapped their mother? And what of his blasted quest? After all that searching, where is their father?
Sidra’s been seething for days now, ever since Sahm thought to show his face in the Gates. What an idiot. Had he really expected to find her waiting for him with a welcoming smile?
And the idiot still hasn’t left the Gates.
She’s been making an effort to avoid him. Harder said than done, now that she’s decided to come out of hiding. He seems to be around every corner she looks, and today is no exception. She’s on her way to a favourite quiet spot of hers, when she rounds a small copse of trees and discovers that Sahm is already there.
“Fuck.” She mutters quietly to herself and is about to turn away when a flash of familiar grey-blue that is not Sahm catches her eye. “Da-?” But no. It’s not their father. It’s a girl. A young filly, definitely under a year old, with a blue-grey, black tipped coat. She pauses, both curious and hovering at the edge of yet more anger. That coat colour … she’s only met one other horse with it. “What the fuck did you do Dad.”
It’s so fucking rich for Sahm to have come back now. Just in time to be completely and utterly useless. Where had he been when he’d actually been needed? Where had he been when the Chamber had raided and Gryffen had kidnapped their mother? And what of his blasted quest? After all that searching, where is their father?
Sidra’s been seething for days now, ever since Sahm thought to show his face in the Gates. What an idiot. Had he really expected to find her waiting for him with a welcoming smile?
And the idiot still hasn’t left the Gates.
She’s been making an effort to avoid him. Harder said than done, now that she’s decided to come out of hiding. He seems to be around every corner she looks, and today is no exception. She’s on her way to a favourite quiet spot of hers, when she rounds a small copse of trees and discovers that Sahm is already there.
“Fuck.” She mutters quietly to herself and is about to turn away when a flash of familiar grey-blue that is not Sahm catches her eye. “Da-?” But no. It’s not their father. It’s a girl. A young filly, definitely under a year old, with a blue-grey, black tipped coat. She pauses, both curious and hovering at the edge of yet more anger. That coat colour … she’s only met one other horse with it. “What the fuck did you do Dad.”
Sidra
the wild child of jason x fiasko