is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
She is perhaps not as old as the mare that makes her way back into Beqanna, but still, she is from another era. She understands how different Beqanna has become, how it is not really their home anymore. Living again, as it turns out, is a rather dull thing. She can pass the time in a state that is something akin to a trance, if she chooses, disappearing into the burning tree that is a part of her soul. Or perhaps now she is simply a part of the tree. It’s hard to be certain which way that relationship works.
Still, she finds herself...curious. That is not quite the right word, but it is a good start. Sochi has asked her what her plan was, and Straia was still not sure she was allowed to have a plan. Did her magic have limits, or could she wreck havoc on Beqanna as she once had?
More importantly, could she bring back some of what had been lost?
That is the question that keeps her up, and she wanders the Meadow with no plan. She can sense the mare though, something ancient about her. Not quite as ancient as Beqanna, but still. Curious is the right word now, and Straia makes her way over, having never cared who approached who. In the end, did that really matter, so long as the stars aligned in her favor? Sometimes it was even mutually beneficial. ”You are older than me, which is quite impressive,” she says as she approaches, her voice a deep purr.
There is nothing remarkable about Straia. She could be anything, but she chooses to be herself. A plain mare with no wings, no horns. Though her amber eyes give away something about her, something knowing and calculating, something to be wary of. This mare seemed like someone she might get along with though.
Still, she finds herself...curious. That is not quite the right word, but it is a good start. Sochi has asked her what her plan was, and Straia was still not sure she was allowed to have a plan. Did her magic have limits, or could she wreck havoc on Beqanna as she once had?
More importantly, could she bring back some of what had been lost?
That is the question that keeps her up, and she wanders the Meadow with no plan. She can sense the mare though, something ancient about her. Not quite as ancient as Beqanna, but still. Curious is the right word now, and Straia makes her way over, having never cared who approached who. In the end, did that really matter, so long as the stars aligned in her favor? Sometimes it was even mutually beneficial. ”You are older than me, which is quite impressive,” she says as she approaches, her voice a deep purr.
There is nothing remarkable about Straia. She could be anything, but she chooses to be herself. A plain mare with no wings, no horns. Though her amber eyes give away something about her, something knowing and calculating, something to be wary of. This mare seemed like someone she might get along with though.
@[Blasphemare]
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission