lagertha, any

[Cress]

all that we have amassed sits before us, shattered into ash

Cress tries very hard not to dislike others. To be quite honest, she has no reason to hate anyone—including Eight. Sure, she is loyal to her family and he had dethroned Oxytocin, but if the rumors are true, Oxytocin wasn’t even around to defend his title. Sure, he had spent a few weeks doting on Kindling and his newborn daughter, but attending to kingdom matters? Oxytocin had been lazy. Eight had taken the Valley and breathed life back into her. As a loyal member of the Valley, she has to respect that. She had to learn to let go of the only grudge she has ever tried to hold on to.

She had not expected him to come with her to the Amazons, though. She had set off completely by herself and besides, wouldn’t it have made more sense to bring another mare with her? Surely they will not be so accommodating to a stallion. Cress is trying to not disrespect the Amazonian culture but he is going to make this difficult. Oh well. It’s not as if she can force him to return to the Valley. She’s going to play nice—playing nice is all she’s ever known anyways.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Rhy,” she tells the mare who joins her in the no-man’s-land, smiling politely. “My name is Cress; I am the Mentalvårdare of the Valley under King Demian. It seems we hold similar ranks.” Her polite smile grows into something more friendly as she settles in. Before she can say anymore, though, Eight cuts in, and though she shoots him a brief glance, she keeps her mouth closed. Let him speak; obviously Demian finds him important enough to accompany her on her journey here.

No reason to act juvenile, Cress.

The Queen—Khaleesi, as they say here—arrives soon after and Cress dips her head respectfully to the mare. “It is an honor to meet you, Lagertha,” she says, and though the Khaleesi appears intimidating she cannot help but study the mare. She is lean and battle-worn, the type of ruler that the Amazon has needed for a long time. She has experience. Eight then suggest a tour of the Jungle, stepping boldly forward. “If you do not mind, of course,” she adds hastily, and she hopes that the Amazonian women know that she is trying her hardest not to come off as rude. Eight is something else entirely.

“How fairs the Jungle since the change in leadership?” she asks casually. “The Valley is thriving under her new leadership; I hope the same rings true for you.”

Gods above, Cress. Sometimes your politeness sure seems like ass-kissing.

cress

oxytocin x kindling

[sorry I've failed at posting lately Dx][/bold]