the phoenix born again in the ashes of the end
“As tight as they may be,” says a voice. “I assure you- we make time for our visitors. Especially those who come to endeavor in peace.” feminine and soft, bearing no ill-will.
Calm and with little issue, she wanders forward: the earth coloration evient; but more so the flecked-golden green eyes and her dark hair. Sarkis is, like her siblings, tall and smooth: a woman of a fluid and swift gait. Her head lifts and she eyes Rhaegor and Magnus, stares at Leilan and Chryseis; but in a manner that mirrors care and compassion.
“I believe the Sanctuary is also sending diplomats around.” the addendum is made as Sarkis slithers up next to Leilan with her eyes drawn to Tephra’s jungle-king and his entourage. She stands, tall and poised: well authoritative in a way but only in such a manner that it resembles something of steel in spine.
Quiet and calm she observes the faint autumnal breeze and the smell of sea not far away… the green grass ocean that sways and all the stars and sun and sky. Shadows too linger and Sarkis does not hide the way she shies from the darkness, nor how she seems contented more so to linger in the sunlight between the clouds.
With regard of person and aware of her invasive behavior, she dips her head and speaks with a low purr, something Magnus himself should’ve been familiar with: Sarkis, after all, had been born in the Jungle.
“I am Sarkis, the daughter of Scorch and Hestoni, and sadly the sister to our dearest Leilan.” she chuckles- playful in the moment. “I was on border duty when I saw you arrive, I thought it might be more polite to come and say hello.” she bears nothing akin to a Jaguage, no…
Sarkis for all her gentleness, crests her head and as her neck bends: the muscle and skin seem almost draconic in poise.
with open eyes I'll bring the fire, the turning of our fates
