06-06-2016, 01:41 PM
I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
Luckily for the two of them, neither is apt to hold a grudge post-war. Life goes on, minutiae becomes all-encompassing, and before you know it, a year has passed in the blink of an eye. Even easier to become enveloped in the creeping vines, swearing that you only mean to close your eyes for a minute, but oh that heat is so, so, sweet… Sometimes the Iron Lady feels the pull of the Sandman and must shake it off, knowing that it is not time to rest yet. There will be time in all the years to come, but not while she wears the thorned crown. Not while there is still a bit of uncertainty that lingers like smog on the horizon, a dark smudge in an otherwise unmarred sky.
The pale stallion doesn’t take long to appear, and despite herself, she finds a smile slinking across her face. “Ramiel,” she says in greeting, noting how healthy and content he seems to be. “Thank you. It would take more than some Chamberling’s fire to bring us to our knees. The Jungle grows back, and the Sisters seem to think I should stick around, so I can’t complain.” She chuckles dryly; injecting humor into an otherwise serious state of affairs. “You’re looking rather happy. How is the Dale?”
A somewhat familiar scent lingers on him, and Lagertha is about to inquire about it, when a very fat stallion and his tortoise companion waddle on up to join them. Weir is mostly a stranger to Lagertha, knowing him only by sight, but she remembers his power during the War. He froze the battlefield, inadvertently helping her save Lexa. He is intriguing - peculiar and eccentric - and the warrior in her decided long ago that she wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of the stallion. Nevertheless, she doesn’t bother to hide her confusion and inadvertent surprise at his appearance. “What, ahhh... exactly is wrong?” She glances towards Ramiel, and then back to the stallion, forgetting entirely to answer his second question.
To those who are out of the loop, Weird simply looks like he needs to go on diet. In which case, Lagertha could also prescribe an excellent exercise regimen if that’s what he was looking for.
The pale stallion doesn’t take long to appear, and despite herself, she finds a smile slinking across her face. “Ramiel,” she says in greeting, noting how healthy and content he seems to be. “Thank you. It would take more than some Chamberling’s fire to bring us to our knees. The Jungle grows back, and the Sisters seem to think I should stick around, so I can’t complain.” She chuckles dryly; injecting humor into an otherwise serious state of affairs. “You’re looking rather happy. How is the Dale?”
A somewhat familiar scent lingers on him, and Lagertha is about to inquire about it, when a very fat stallion and his tortoise companion waddle on up to join them. Weir is mostly a stranger to Lagertha, knowing him only by sight, but she remembers his power during the War. He froze the battlefield, inadvertently helping her save Lexa. He is intriguing - peculiar and eccentric - and the warrior in her decided long ago that she wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of the stallion. Nevertheless, she doesn’t bother to hide her confusion and inadvertent surprise at his appearance. “What, ahhh... exactly is wrong?” She glances towards Ramiel, and then back to the stallion, forgetting entirely to answer his second question.
To those who are out of the loop, Weird simply looks like he needs to go on diet. In which case, Lagertha could also prescribe an excellent exercise regimen if that’s what he was looking for.
Lagertha
Warrior Queen of the Amazons