i've got some damn bad intentions - anyone

[Straia]

i am the violence in the pouring rain

i am a hurricane

It is a simple enough request from the gray mare. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t make Straia wary. Any stranger wandering through her home could be a spy. Granted, she’s not necessarily worried about spies either. It’s not like Straia would be taking the mare anywhere near important conversations, and if the mare was some sort of mind reader, then what difference would a tour make?

Other that that, the Chamber had few secrets. Learning your way through the pine forests took time. One trip in and out is hardly enough to learn the paths through and into the heart of the kingdom. The magical entities of each kingdom are not secrets, and neither is the heart that beats beneath the earth.

So while she may be slightly wary, for the most part, Straia doesn’t mind. She, after all, has some interest in the Jungle given her heritage there, and once upon a time was welcomed with open arms. Not anymore, but when you’ve basically pledged to be fighting against one another, arms tend to close.

“May I ask who your mother was? And your name? I’d at least like to know who I’m escorting into my kingdom.” she says, nodding her head toward the forest and stepping aside, a clear enough invitation. Instead, she turns and waits for the mare to join her, before leading her way through the pine forests with ease, going slow enough for the other to catch up, but not necessarily lingering here either.

She’ll be a good hostess and take the other to the heart of the kingdom.  She’s not sure why she’s being so gracious other than a perhaps that the Chamber has called his mare home. They could use more bodies (who couldn’t, really?). But more to the point, the Chamber often had a way of calling to the right individuals. It may not be that impressive really, if you think about it – just trees and sparse grass and mist – but give it a few minutes and it always proves to be more.

The trees thin, and the thumping of the heart becomes more pronounced beneath their feet. In the distance, the burning evergreen can be seen, just a mass of raging fires that do not spread. It is not grand, but it still somehow amazing. At least, Straia always thinks so. “You can lead the way and explore.” Gracious indeed. It’s unlike her. But then again, there’s an army of ravens peering out of the trees keeping an eye on things, so Straia doesn’t tend to worry too terribly much.

straia

the raven queen of the chamber