Ygritte
12-29-2018, 05:22 PM
BETTER BEWARE, I GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT
DEVIL-MAY-CARE WITH A LUST FOR LIFE
DEVIL-MAY-CARE WITH A LUST FOR LIFE
The form had been forgotten by the new generations, though born after the Reckoning, teir minds and bodies a product of fear and rejoice as a plague cloaked the open eyes and swollen tongues that lay filled with flies, unblinking.
The world had been torn by a god king. It trembled beneath sharp hooves, puckering and splitting beneath the fire sky, unrecognizable. The horses had banded together or fallen apart. There was nothing in between except the will to survive and it drove them to carve out sanctuaries on segregated little plots of soil. Some were unfit. Others were toxic. Many creatures died at the hand of lecherous cruelty.
Alongside the pied man, Ygritte had built the land of trees with Kreios, naming it's solitude after elvish forests and green landscape that invoked wild tales of beasts and savagery alike! Then Kreios had grown tired, Ygritte also weary, the man slipped away in a wild cat form at the hands of Djinni...was is Djinni? Ygritte can not remember for it was so long ago. But now, in the presence of a late autumn wind, the salmon and copper mare splits the low brush easily. Time had been kind to her, her features hardly changed at all save for the fact that where her right eye had been now flowers bloomed from the socket and wrapped up beneath the mane.
A slow breath draws as she breaks the treeline where the horses had once gathered for harvest and dance. A small plume of air forms the ghost of her words, long silenced by the thunderous hooves of many nameless and faceless equines. The woman finds a place to stand, draws a breath to taste the air for impurities, before she exhales. There was no need for announcement or extravaganza. She was no long a queen but hoped to be a resident still. Ygritte doubts any will remember her name or face after the passage of years but it does not bother her. Sylva was a land to it's people. A giver of food, shelter, and solitude. There was nothing more than the old queen could ask for.
The world had been torn by a god king. It trembled beneath sharp hooves, puckering and splitting beneath the fire sky, unrecognizable. The horses had banded together or fallen apart. There was nothing in between except the will to survive and it drove them to carve out sanctuaries on segregated little plots of soil. Some were unfit. Others were toxic. Many creatures died at the hand of lecherous cruelty.
Alongside the pied man, Ygritte had built the land of trees with Kreios, naming it's solitude after elvish forests and green landscape that invoked wild tales of beasts and savagery alike! Then Kreios had grown tired, Ygritte also weary, the man slipped away in a wild cat form at the hands of Djinni...was is Djinni? Ygritte can not remember for it was so long ago. But now, in the presence of a late autumn wind, the salmon and copper mare splits the low brush easily. Time had been kind to her, her features hardly changed at all save for the fact that where her right eye had been now flowers bloomed from the socket and wrapped up beneath the mane.
A slow breath draws as she breaks the treeline where the horses had once gathered for harvest and dance. A small plume of air forms the ghost of her words, long silenced by the thunderous hooves of many nameless and faceless equines. The woman finds a place to stand, draws a breath to taste the air for impurities, before she exhales. There was no need for announcement or extravaganza. She was no long a queen but hoped to be a resident still. Ygritte doubts any will remember her name or face after the passage of years but it does not bother her. Sylva was a land to it's people. A giver of food, shelter, and solitude. There was nothing more than the old queen could ask for.
Ygritte.