08-02-2016, 01:49 PM
stay close to me while the sky is falling
"You are a bitter little wench, aren't you?" She muses suddenly, her eyes darkening slightly. Though demure and patient, her tone was growing quite agitating to listen to - perhaps it was the surge of hormones that pulsated through her limbs, but she was suddenly immensely grateful for the declination. "Most unattractive."
Xiomara would be of little value, she decides, and she would be much better shirked elsewhere as someone else's blistering thorn. Her nostrils flare with a low sigh as she draws her thick, heavy wings to each side of her slender body, flexing the stiff muscles and fragile bones once more. Her feathers catch again in the sunlight, and she pauses to bury her teeth near the tip of her left wing, preening the tucked feather that lay there.
"There is only one place as cold as you seek, run by a King as kind as my own in the North - he does not take kindly to sharp tongues and cheekiness, so be warned. His land is an ally to my own, so perhaps we will see each other again - though I dare say, I should hope not. Goodbye, Xiomara." She says with a trill in her voice as her slender legs carry her several paces off. With agility and grace, she lifts up, her heavy black wings pounding against the warm and heavy air, and soon she is long gone - soaring in the sky.
Xiomara would be of little value, she decides, and she would be much better shirked elsewhere as someone else's blistering thorn. Her nostrils flare with a low sigh as she draws her thick, heavy wings to each side of her slender body, flexing the stiff muscles and fragile bones once more. Her feathers catch again in the sunlight, and she pauses to bury her teeth near the tip of her left wing, preening the tucked feather that lay there.
"There is only one place as cold as you seek, run by a King as kind as my own in the North - he does not take kindly to sharp tongues and cheekiness, so be warned. His land is an ally to my own, so perhaps we will see each other again - though I dare say, I should hope not. Goodbye, Xiomara." She says with a trill in her voice as her slender legs carry her several paces off. With agility and grace, she lifts up, her heavy black wings pounding against the warm and heavy air, and soon she is long gone - soaring in the sky.
Misra