02-27-2017, 09:39 PM
Hi ho hi ho it's off to Sylva she go.
Harmonia is not one to participate in kingdom gimmicks, she finds the entire thing tiresome. Raised in the Amazons by their every wonderful Lady and General and blah blah will do that to you. Thankfully she had magic (restored! glorified! wonderful! magic!) to cause the uptick in her mood enough to let herself be dragged on such an excursion.
And, of course, at her heels comes little Ajatar, though not so little anymore. She's a year old now, standing nearly as tall as her frail dam, her wide eyes taking in the entire scene, her scaled legs healed from whatever boiled nonsense she unleashed onto the world earlier. The two are an unlikely pair. Harmonia chooses her favorite form of transportation - floating just above the ground, legs tucked under her as though laying on a magic carpet. Ajatar seems muscular in comparison though just a yearling, her smokey black coat broken in sweat from the strangely long trip from Pangea to Sylva.
Ajatar needs no explanation about their trip. She only heard "go," and so she followed. She meant to follow Rodrik but something in his eyes, something in her mothers eyes, told her to keep their friendship close to her chest. Nothing good could come from that, nothing good at all.
So she crosses into the breach that is Sylva, a striking contrast to the barren, sickly Pangea. Harmonia does not halt at the border, instead she cruises right inside the kingdom as though it is owed to her. Ajatar hesitates at the border, feeling a bit...off put...with the situation. At long last she follows after, making as much noise as she can to attract anyone. Her mothers soundless cruising will not invite the happiest of receptions, she thinks.
Who would blame her? She only knows Pangea.
Harmonia is not one to participate in kingdom gimmicks, she finds the entire thing tiresome. Raised in the Amazons by their every wonderful Lady and General and blah blah will do that to you. Thankfully she had magic (restored! glorified! wonderful! magic!) to cause the uptick in her mood enough to let herself be dragged on such an excursion.
And, of course, at her heels comes little Ajatar, though not so little anymore. She's a year old now, standing nearly as tall as her frail dam, her wide eyes taking in the entire scene, her scaled legs healed from whatever boiled nonsense she unleashed onto the world earlier. The two are an unlikely pair. Harmonia chooses her favorite form of transportation - floating just above the ground, legs tucked under her as though laying on a magic carpet. Ajatar seems muscular in comparison though just a yearling, her smokey black coat broken in sweat from the strangely long trip from Pangea to Sylva.
Ajatar needs no explanation about their trip. She only heard "go," and so she followed. She meant to follow Rodrik but something in his eyes, something in her mothers eyes, told her to keep their friendship close to her chest. Nothing good could come from that, nothing good at all.
So she crosses into the breach that is Sylva, a striking contrast to the barren, sickly Pangea. Harmonia does not halt at the border, instead she cruises right inside the kingdom as though it is owed to her. Ajatar hesitates at the border, feeling a bit...off put...with the situation. At long last she follows after, making as much noise as she can to attract anyone. Her mothers soundless cruising will not invite the happiest of receptions, she thinks.
Who would blame her? She only knows Pangea.