Crash.
In the blink of an eye it was as though the world ended.
They have found themselves, however, still alive and able to move. They are living, breathing, surviving, but everything they have known has broken apart. Nothing remains of the Jungle or even of the other kingdoms. Everything is reborn, risen like a phoenix from the ashes. Nayl felt the rumbling, and she took cover like most others, but she has since creeped out from the shadows to see the new display unravel before her eyes. Much to her dismay, however, there aren’t loud calls for the sisterhood like there are for the Valley members or Chamberlings. Everyone seems to have congregated except for the proud women of the Jungle. For this alone Nayl is ashamed, but not hopeless. Her eyes are trained on the treeline before shifting to the open meadow. Every breath she takes searches for the familiarity of her home, but nothing ever hooks her attention. Occasionally, her own voice rings across the cacophony, but to no avail; it’s as though the Amazons are suddenly extinct.
It's after hour after hour has ticked by until Nayl hears a call similar to her own. She hears the subtle tones that she often heard in the Jungle, a dialect and certain air of command commonly found among the women. Curious, she inches toward the source until she is standing in front of the mare, her orange-flecked eyes staring into the stranger’s green. ”Part of the sisterhood?” She asks bluntly, lacking interest in small talk. With a world so new and with so much to be done they cannot dwell on the lackluster greetings. Perhaps also it is a little of her grandmother peeking through her.
”I haven’t found anyone else. No one so far seems to want to be found, so as of right now it’s you and I.” They both stand like statues, warriors in their prime, and truly proud of who they are. ”I’m Nayl,” she finally discloses prior to glancing sideways toward the wall of trees that she thought once led to the Jungle. Her heart wrenches; the kingdom was all she had ever known, but it doesn’t matter now. It’s gone and they can’t lift it from the ashes. Instead they have to survive by other means whether that is trying to make a band of their own or unify with a group who has already established themselves.
”We can’t let the Amazons die,” there had been a silence that she splinters with that one statement, that sole command. Even if they don’t gain Beqanna’s favor to gain territory, they mustn’t let their tradition – their way of life – fade with the Jungle’s absence.
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