got me on my knees; Brunhilde

[brunhilde]

i'm a geyser, feel it bubbling from below
hear it call, hear it call, hear it call to me, constantly

Like a moth to a flame, Brunhilde cannot resist the intoxicating desire to feel the instantaneous draw she felt when she first discovered her pull to women. She finds herself slipping from the boulders of Loess and into the arms of the Common Lands more and more often. Most times, she is ill-suited for whatever basic face she comes upon, but there are those few joyous encounters that leave her breathless and wanting.

Her most recent trip out of Loess has spanned for days. Desperation began to build in her chest the first day she did not find someone worth anything. Now, as she sits irritably upon her third day, she is practically ravenous.

Brunhilde will take the attention of a god-forsaken foal, if that is what she has to do.

She hums to herself, half-mad and terribly restless. The copse of trees she has been sleeping in fade into less tightly woven trees, which eventually spread into the Meadow and the Field. The little flame’s starving golden eyes glow sharply with that insatiable hunger. What stranger can she pick out to pluck at her wild soul? Not just any will do, but her bitter heart finds she must settle.

The crazed meanderings of a stallion catch her eye, and while her interest in the insane is fickle at best, she finds that a wandering eye from any creature will do the trick.

“What did the water do to you?” she questions as she approaches, metaphorical eyebrow cocked. “And the pebble . . . ?” She smiles, if a bit hesitantly, in an attempt to draw him from the liquid. “Maybe I can help?”

and hear the harmony only when it's harming me
it's not real, it's not real, it's not real enough

Brunhilde

@[Thales] just a couple of weirdos being weird