She does not forget annoyances either. There’s a list in her head, waiting for their turn, for the opportune moment. She will not forget Chezter, from the Falls, and the entire kingdom will pay for his stupidity. She does not forget Camelia, and her decision to walk out of the Chamber rather than plead her case for an alliance (not that Straia ever would have granted one). But moreover, she will remember the Gates Queen failure to inform her kingdom and Mast, with the broken girl in tow, looking to continue an alliance that had long been broken. How very sad. And such a waste of her time. She will not forget the Amazonian mare’s attempt to steal her son and uncle from out beneath her nose.
Only the last is truly a personal affront, but she doesn’t particularly like any of the kingdoms. They waste her time, they belittle the Chamber by sending fools to the border. And anything that betlittles her kingdom is enough to warrant retaliation in her book. But she waited patiently, taking the opportunity when it arose. Badly timed chaos never worked as one might hope.
She grins slightly at the sound of his laugh; such a rare sound, and it’s beautiful. It’s a laugh that remembers every grievance just as she does. They have never been bright, he says, and she grins slightly. “What did they do to you?” she says with a chuckle, assuming there’s a reason he’s so fascinated with the Gates. She’s not against taking them down a peg, but it feels almost unfair. A cat simply playing with its dinner. If they truly wanted to show their strength, they’d have to do more than toy with the Gates.
He nips at her again, and she does not flinch, but rather enjoys it, reaching out her head to snap at the top of his neck and mane. She is less pleased with his response to the Chamber, though she also hadn’t particularly expected anything different. To Weed, the Chamber was a means to an end. To Straia, the Chamber was the reason for it. But in the end, if their goal was the same, she’d take whatever help was offered. She’d also simply take his company, truthfully.
“What are you thinking, my leafy little monster?” She says with a grin, enjoying the possessive use of the word my where he would not. Of course she uses it purposefully, though only the grin gives that away.
straia
the raven queen of the chamber
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission