I shall carry you to the gates of Valhalla - army type folks

[Lagertha]

The sounds here are entirely different; there is no symphony of sounds to lull her to sleep. There are the waves, the wind whistling amongst the caves, and the sound of seagulls as they roost. At times it seems jarringly quiet. The colors seem to have bled from the earth, too. Where once she was surrounded by vibrant greens and browns and flowers of every shade under the sun – she is now left to gray and blue and green. It isn’t ugly – the sunsets could rival any bouquet of Amazonian flora. No, it isn’t bad, it’s just different. It’s a difference Lagertha accepts whole-heartedly, knowing that there is no going back to what once was.

But like anyone who has spent their lifetime (a very long one, it seems) serving a kingdom, she grew attached to it. Just like the Chamberlings who felt a heartbeat beneath their hooves, or the Tundra men who found beauty in a frozen world – so Lagertha loved the blanketing heat and the howler monkeys. There are perks to living on the coastline; she is rarely hot, and their land is easily defendable on three sides. It cannot be set on fire. But oh, what she wouldn’t do for to hear a toucan again, or to come across a capybara and her short-legged little babies.

Life goes on. So must they, and though she will always harbor a longing for the Jungle in her heart, her focus is on the here and now. They lack cohesion; an oath to each other is not always enough. The Sisterhood needs to learn to work together again, and she will demand it of her warriors. Defenders. Whatever. She rolls her eyes and is greatful that no one can see.

Lagertha stands atop a cliff and is able to pick out a few sisters – hopefully they would be within earshot. The general loudly summons the women who are more inclined to battle to her side. There is must to discuss, and no time like the present to begin.

[Djinni]

The dolphins are not particularly lively today - Djinni has seen only a few sleek grey backs since dawn. She likes to stand atop the cliffs and watch them; sometimes she even joins them. This morning she had abstained, and stands alone amid the tall grasses, her dark eyes watching the churning waves.

She knows that Lagertha is nearby, and there is something almost palpable in the air. So when the grey mare trumpets a summons, Djinni is not startled. Hestia had recently called together the women interested in peacemaking, so it only makes sense that the same would be done soon for those interested in battle.

Djinni is not particularly fascinated with either, but her skill at both of them far exceeds the basics. She comes from a time when the children of royalty were tutored and cared for; not simply sired by kings on any passing mare and then forgotten. They grullo mare had mastered the art of conversation; her father had once said she could tell someone to 'go to hell' in such a way that they looked forward to the trip. From Uncle Marston she had learned how to defend herself and those around her. Army training though, was something else entire. She simply does not "do" offense.

It's time to learn then.

She moves forward, closing the distance between herself and Lagertha with a smile on her dished face. She offers a simple nod in greeting, but there is really nothing for her to say - her presence speaks for itself - so she remains quiet.

[Nayl]

The torrent of the ocean is plaguing her ears; Nayl hears nothing else but the lapping of waves and a gust that swirls around her coming from the open waters. There is no peace from it, no escape, and she yearns for the embrace of her Jungle again. It will never happen, but she at least has her memories to recall during those frequent moments of solitude when it’s just her and the world. She reflects on the viridian sea of trees and the prowling jaguars. The macaws squawked in the canopy and vibrant flowers riddled vines and the underbrush.

This place. It’s sand and water. There are very few trees to conceal them but there is an abundance of caves if they want to hide. It isn’t the same, but it is what has been granted to them. The sisterhood, in her eyes, is withering, but she wouldn’t admit this just yet. How can they be Amazons when they no longer have a Jungle (but she remembers telling Djinni otherwise)?

Hearing Lagertha’s familiar voice is what draws Nayl from her fleeting thoughts. She blinks slowly then follows the origin at a casual saunter until she is at the side of both Djinni and the former Queen. A weak grin quivers on the edges of her mouth but never comes to fruition as she looks around the emptiness surrounding them. ”A small army,” she murmurs flatly, disappointedly.



[sorry, muse has sucked lately]