Sochi;

[sochi]

Sochi

darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't

Her irritation at the meeting has not easily bled from her.

It eats at her, making her quick to snap, quick to lash out. She is glad for her daughter’s independence in these moments—glad that her daughter leaves to entertain herself while Sochi finds an outlet for her growing sense of impatience and frustration. Today, that has manifested in hours of her finding comfort in her tigress form—hunting for sport and food and practice all the same. Her belly is swollen with the food, her mouth stained with the blood, but there is still an emptiness, a gnawing ache to fill.

When Castile and Reia break through to her, she shifts into her equine form, still smeared with the crimson evidence of her kills. She accepts the embrace from her daughter, not shying from the heat of her but not holding her close. When she breaks away, Sochi turns her over-bright gaze to the dragon stallion, listening to him quietly, studying the harsh planes and angles of his face.

“They are fools,” she finally says, the words like a bullet shot from her mouth. Her disdain is clear in the way her lips peel back from her teeth. “They are not worth the fight. All they do is talk about their feelings and try settle disagreements with votes.” A shadow of a laugh, rough as bark on her tongue. “You should be more than a king of such fools.” It was their loss if they didn’t want the strongest to be their leader; it was their loss if they preferred something comfortable instead of something powerful.

He mentions Loess and she perks an ear before rolling a shoulder.

“Perhaps Loess would be more worthy of your presence.” She finds his eyes again and exhales, letting loose her tight hold on her frustration. “I trust your judgment and stand by whatever you choose.”  

Not blindly, but he has earned her trust and respect—for now, at least.

playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf

@[Castile]