between the shadows and the soul - any

[Straia]

i am the violence in the pouring rain

i am a hurricane

Aurane’s disinterest is apparent, and Straia simply offers the mare a nod as she leaves. While she allows freeloaders in the Chamber, they are not her favorite, and she doesn’t waste much time on them. At the end of the day, she cares more for those that put the Chamber first, as she does. Weed is a rare exception to this. She doesn’t mind his lack of loyalty to the Chamber, but perhaps that’s because it comes with some level of loyalty to her.

Only some. But that’s more than she could have ever expected from her plant-manipulating monster.

Straia turns her attention back to Shaytan, watching as the mare steps closer to the trunk. It isn’t long before the Shaytan is using a rock to break her skin, and when the mare offers her blood, Straia shifts her gaze to the flames. When the mare’s blood hits the tree, the flames roar to life, more powerful and amazing and impossible than even before.

Straia’s smile spreads, but it’s the look in her eyes that’s far more pleased as she watches possible futures for the Chamber dance through the flames. There are images of the war, variations of how it can go. But her attention is caught by one, her gaze and smile turning wicked and pleased.

“I don’t think I have to try,” she says, voice sultry and smoky as always, laced with the promise of what this tree can do. “You’ve done well, Shaytan. How would you feel about becoming the Chamber’s Priestess? Our tree will need a guardian in the coming war.” She pauses, waiting to see how the mare feels about this proposition, though suspecting Shaytan will take up the offer.

“Also, would you tell me what you saw? I’m curious if we saw the same things, or different things.”

straia

the raven queen of the chamber