05-04-2015, 02:46 PM
and when I breathed, my breath was lightning
Rhy has been somewhat absent as of late. There’s been so much going on, and in truth, she hasn’t wanted to deal with it all. No, wanted isn’t right. She’d been afraid of what she might do. She’s tired of playing mediator for Scorch and Lagertha, tired of pretending to be something she isn’t. The electric in her veins was beginning to boil, whispering in her to be the mare she was born to be. Powerful. Destructive. Electric.
So she disappeared. Because she could kill most of the sisters in this kingdom if she lost control, and that’s not who she wants to be. Though on some level, it is a part of her. There is a part of her that wants to be that mare. She wants them to fear her. Because she’s tired of being the golden girl that everyone can step on. Not that they do, they know better. But sometimes she is ignored, forgotten, neglected.
And when Kratos came. Oh, how impossible it is to forget what she can be. What they can be together. There were few more deadly than the pair of them.
She’s finally feeling more like herself. Bright and bubbly and okay again, and so she’s back, winding her way through the familiar vines and trees and underbrush of the Jungle, and it does feel good to be home. She’s missed so much – she’ll need to catch up – but she’s easing herself back in. Another mare, one she doesn’t know, catches her eye and Rhy offers a friendly nicker as she makes her way over to the other.
“Hello,” she says easily, the sparks that were on her skins only moments before dying again. Many of the sisters expect the sparks and know to stay clear of her, but with newcomers Rhy always tries to be respectful. They aren’t all used to her. “I’m Rhy.”
So she disappeared. Because she could kill most of the sisters in this kingdom if she lost control, and that’s not who she wants to be. Though on some level, it is a part of her. There is a part of her that wants to be that mare. She wants them to fear her. Because she’s tired of being the golden girl that everyone can step on. Not that they do, they know better. But sometimes she is ignored, forgotten, neglected.
And when Kratos came. Oh, how impossible it is to forget what she can be. What they can be together. There were few more deadly than the pair of them.
She’s finally feeling more like herself. Bright and bubbly and okay again, and so she’s back, winding her way through the familiar vines and trees and underbrush of the Jungle, and it does feel good to be home. She’s missed so much – she’ll need to catch up – but she’s easing herself back in. Another mare, one she doesn’t know, catches her eye and Rhy offers a friendly nicker as she makes her way over to the other.
“Hello,” she says easily, the sparks that were on her skins only moments before dying again. Many of the sisters expect the sparks and know to stay clear of her, but with newcomers Rhy always tries to be respectful. They aren’t all used to her. “I’m Rhy.”
rhy
the electric lioness of riagan and rayelle
