[open] god of my mother, hear this cry - kreios, any - amazons?

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails What was it that lured Nayl here to this specific place? Is it the scent of Lagertha or her sliver of hope that she has latched onto? The Jungle is gone; it disintegrated and ripped itself apart as Beqanna caved in on itself that jutted out as something greater, something newer. The trees that towered above them and dappled the sunlight were suddenly gone and the humidity was lifted in almost the blink of an eye. Nayl was awestruck as it all happened, as the world ate itself then spat it back out. It felt so odd how the shifting of the earth also drained her. At first, she didn’t understand why, but now, as she has been trying to seep her fingers into the trees around her she realizes what has gone amiss. There was no Jungle, no kingdoms, no magic. The threads of consciousness that she would extend toward the world around her have been severed. It startled her at first, but she knew that she wasn’t alone (she couldn’t be. Why would she be?). The loss concerned her, but what pressed more urgently in her mind was how her homeland was gone and how she hasn’t yet heard the call for the Amazons to congregate. While others of different kingdoms gathered and plotted the proud women of the Jungle merely kept to the shadows as though hiding from this change. Nayl cannot – will not – allow it to continue. Her eyes had been searching desperately when she glimpsed Lagertha in the distance with a child pressed to her side. A stallion joined her, but Nayl didn’t bother apologizing when she interrupted the scene. ”Lagertha,” she mutters with a steely gaze that also wraps around her voice, ”everything – the Jungle – is gone.” A brief pause enables her a sideways glance to the male, his scent thick with that of the Falls, but she hardly regards him as her mind is cloaked by more pressing matters. ”And Lexa is gone.” Another pause because she didn’t know the Queen well enough to truly be loyal to her, or to even feel the pain of the loss. ”We cannot let the Amazons go extinct.” There is venom in her voice, a push to ignite that fire into the ex-Queen’s soul despite the confusion clouding her mind and the child occupying her time. ”We need to do something.” Whether Lagertha helped or not, at least the information has been shared on a platter. Nayl covet and myrina's creation