09-07-2021, 01:35 AM
Ryatah
She understood, more than most, the laws of Hyaline. Even though she had lived here longer than both the queen that had created the shifting rule and the current queen that enforced it, she had never tried to argue it. After all, she was safe, and not bound by it—Atrox had made sure of that. And now that she no longer had to worry over their children being shifters or not, she rarely thought of it at all. She was blissfully ignorant, and she knew it. She paid little attention to those that came and went, because she did not have to.
The Hyaline that belonged to her and Atrox is distant from the rest of them; they lived their lives mostly undisturbed, just as they in turn did not disturb the kingdom. Between the two of them they’ve experienced more than their fair share of political disputes and wars, and neither of them were willing to fight on behalf of anyone except their own family anymore.
So when she looks at Anath it is with a gentle kind of pity, but also with the understanding that she likely could not change anything for her. Perhaps with the old Mazikeen, the one that she had first healed after protecting her own sweet Selaphiel from the creatures that had lurked in the never-ending dark. But this new Mazikeen was not nearly so easy to appeal to; she is hollow and dark, and while Ryatah is no stranger to all things sinister, there was something about the Hyaline queen even she found unnerving.
“Looking for angels?” she repeats her question with a small smile and slight tilt of her head, watching the way the little girl trembles with a battle she seems to be fighting with herself. She doesn’t think anyone has ever specifically sought her out simply for being an angel, but if she feels any suspicion there is none found on her face. Anath did not seem to realize what she was, which makes her wonder why she felt she needed an angel if she did not know what they were. If they were not in Hyaline her guard likely would not have been raised at all, and she does her best to shield the little girl from seeing the way her own mind is churning.
She does not directly confirm anything at first, and instead only returns the introduction with one of her own. “My name is Ryatah,” she adjusts her gold-tipped wings, sending a small shower of stardust to the ground below. “I think I might be able to help you,” she finishes with another kind smile, before asking gently, “What did you need an angel for?”
The Hyaline that belonged to her and Atrox is distant from the rest of them; they lived their lives mostly undisturbed, just as they in turn did not disturb the kingdom. Between the two of them they’ve experienced more than their fair share of political disputes and wars, and neither of them were willing to fight on behalf of anyone except their own family anymore.
So when she looks at Anath it is with a gentle kind of pity, but also with the understanding that she likely could not change anything for her. Perhaps with the old Mazikeen, the one that she had first healed after protecting her own sweet Selaphiel from the creatures that had lurked in the never-ending dark. But this new Mazikeen was not nearly so easy to appeal to; she is hollow and dark, and while Ryatah is no stranger to all things sinister, there was something about the Hyaline queen even she found unnerving.
“Looking for angels?” she repeats her question with a small smile and slight tilt of her head, watching the way the little girl trembles with a battle she seems to be fighting with herself. She doesn’t think anyone has ever specifically sought her out simply for being an angel, but if she feels any suspicion there is none found on her face. Anath did not seem to realize what she was, which makes her wonder why she felt she needed an angel if she did not know what they were. If they were not in Hyaline her guard likely would not have been raised at all, and she does her best to shield the little girl from seeing the way her own mind is churning.
She does not directly confirm anything at first, and instead only returns the introduction with one of her own. “My name is Ryatah,” she adjusts her gold-tipped wings, sending a small shower of stardust to the ground below. “I think I might be able to help you,” she finishes with another kind smile, before asking gently, “What did you need an angel for?”
EVEN ANGELS HAVE THEIR WICKED SCHEMES
@Anath