Although the Valley is known for its witchcraft and murder and blazing fire, there is an underlying current of softness that is rarely shown. It is only revealed to those who live in the Valley; that gentle stream bubbling with strange love. Perhaps, in all those years where wars have sprung up, the true purpose behind the Valley’s violent retaliation is simply their fierceness to protect their loved ones.
In any case, Cerva sees the gentleness behind the sharp walls better than most. Many of Beqanna only sees the harsh thirst for blood of the Valley, only the death-splattered books of their history, only the chaotic swirl of traits which could all inflict destruction upon their victims. But she sees the crooning of a warrior mother to her young child, the hard-earned brotherhood between the kingdom members, the gentle sway of kindness between trees which hear only anger and blood.
She is a doe among a pack of hungry wolves and perhaps that is how she sees their kindness.
It is rare that she finds another light-hearted soul in such a dark place and yet when she spots the mare stepping into the sunlight her lips stretch into a barely-concealed smile. She doesn’t yet remove her mask (a mask covered in the blood of ‘enemies’ and smelling strongly of wolf and cued with the sounds of snapping jaws) as Cerva steps up, but her heart tingles with the prospect of someone like her living in someplace like this.
“Hi.” Her voice is soft at the beginning of it, but with a sharp quip at the end as if she must remember to be harsh.
“I’m Cerva. Who are you?”cerva
eight & noori
