warriors do not show their heart
until the axe reveals it
Lagertha purposefully pauses, dropping the smile and reverting back to her stone-faced mask. Just for a moment. Then she chuckles and lifts her shoulders to a slight shrug. “I do have a certain reputation to maintain… whatever would they do if the Stern Old General suddenly started smiling all the time?” And there is some truth in what she says; it is an image which she has cultivated as much as it was thrust upon her, through the circumstances of her reign. There were those who knew the softness behind the hard lines, but those few have either died or disappeared. With that little tidbit in mind, what reason had Lagertha to try and alter her resting bitch face? There is a lone individual she would like to continue to make a good impression on - and she sees them only every once in a blue moon.
At least her armor is back. The Iron Lady feels as much at home in her steel spikes as she does in bare skin. And it’s saved her ass a hundred times over. She she can imagine the relief Djinni feels at finding whatever it is she’d lost.
The gray mare huh’s in the back of her throat, tilting her head a little to one side to take in the new shade of Djinni. “Lovely.” Every now and then, Lagertha has privately wished that she might be a little more.. Exotic. Her horns had been a fun change of pace, even if they were always getting caught on low hanging vines and branches. She’d seen her reflection in the river and loved every bit of fierceness it projected. But we are not here to talk about Lagertha and her many shades of gray. “Glad you’ve found it again, then.” She takes a couple more steps out of the mouth of the cave and towards her fellow gray (now coral). “So. How have you found the Sisterhood? I’d like to hear your honest opinion, if you don’t mind.”
Because unlike some, she can take criticism with a stiff upper lip.
Lagertha
