09-29-2015, 10:50 PM
love is a temporary madness...
She senses them just before they reach the border. Her empathy is growing, the radius in which she can sense emotions expanding with each new dawn. It is fortunate that she has learned how to tuck the din of emotions into a corner of her mind, or she might quickly go mad. Especially in busy places such as the meadow or field. The Dale, fortunately, is usually quiet. She rarely has to worry about being overwhelmed here, especially as she had remained so secluded for the past several months.
But when she feels who is coming, it is simply not possible for her to ignore the gathering group. She would recognize her daughter anywhere, even if it was only by her emotional signature.
She is slow in arriving. Though her fractured shoulder is healing, it is a slow process. Walking is painful, causing her to limp as she crosses the Dale by foot. Of course she had had the rotten luck of being ensconced on very nearly the opposite end of the kingdom when she first had felt them. When she finally does arrive, it is to find quite a large group already gathered. Ramiel, Weir, and Soliel she of course knows. Ea she has seen, though they had not yet had a chance for true conversation. The only one of the Amazon’s party she recognizes, aside from Joscelin of course, is Lagertha. The rest are unfamiliar.
She arrives just in time to catch the tail end of Joscelin’s words, enough to know that Lagertha has been crowned Khaleesi. Limping towards the group, she dips her head in her direction, a signal of respect for her new position. A warm smile curves her lips as she adds her own voice to the conversation.
“Congratulations, Khaleesi. I would like to extend our best wishes for your reign, and my earnest hope that our alliance can continue.”
She could say no less, for they have her daughter in their hands. Her russet gaze turns to the red and white woman (girl no longer) as the sparking in her skin intensifies, brightening. Joscelin has her golden gaze fixed upon her, eyeing the mostly healed scars littering the right side of her torso. And though nothing shows upon her stoic features, she can feel a faint hint of alarm emanating from her. She slips in next to Joscelin, hearing her daughter softly whisper a questioning ‘Mom?’ as she does. She brushes her muzzle gently, reassuringly, against her fractured neck, before settling in as the conversation continues.
But when she feels who is coming, it is simply not possible for her to ignore the gathering group. She would recognize her daughter anywhere, even if it was only by her emotional signature.
She is slow in arriving. Though her fractured shoulder is healing, it is a slow process. Walking is painful, causing her to limp as she crosses the Dale by foot. Of course she had had the rotten luck of being ensconced on very nearly the opposite end of the kingdom when she first had felt them. When she finally does arrive, it is to find quite a large group already gathered. Ramiel, Weir, and Soliel she of course knows. Ea she has seen, though they had not yet had a chance for true conversation. The only one of the Amazon’s party she recognizes, aside from Joscelin of course, is Lagertha. The rest are unfamiliar.
She arrives just in time to catch the tail end of Joscelin’s words, enough to know that Lagertha has been crowned Khaleesi. Limping towards the group, she dips her head in her direction, a signal of respect for her new position. A warm smile curves her lips as she adds her own voice to the conversation.
“Congratulations, Khaleesi. I would like to extend our best wishes for your reign, and my earnest hope that our alliance can continue.”
She could say no less, for they have her daughter in their hands. Her russet gaze turns to the red and white woman (girl no longer) as the sparking in her skin intensifies, brightening. Joscelin has her golden gaze fixed upon her, eyeing the mostly healed scars littering the right side of her torso. And though nothing shows upon her stoic features, she can feel a faint hint of alarm emanating from her. She slips in next to Joscelin, hearing her daughter softly whisper a questioning ‘Mom?’ as she does. She brushes her muzzle gently, reassuringly, against her fractured neck, before settling in as the conversation continues.
elysteria