09-01-2016, 11:26 AM
Blood thick with royalty?
Just about everyone could claim royal blood these days, it does not make one special in any way.
Even lowly Riva can claim ties to both the Tundra and the Dale, to a King and a Queen well known, liked, and loved even - except by her, but that is besides the point. Blood, is only that - blood, and scratch both mares open, they’ll bleed the same: red.
Honestly, Riva is a buzzkill. She sucks the joy right out of the room, since misery loves company. Riva though, is about the only constant spark of life in the Jungle, besides their Queen. She strays from one end of the Jungle to the other, in a constant arc of patrol and on most occasions, they handle her abrasive manner just fine. This mare though, seems rather crestfallen to be greeted by a genuine Amazon (hey, she’s taken her oath and is therefore, a sworn sister). Maybe it’s just because Riva isn’t really personable, she’s entirely too blunt - like a gust of skunk air that comes out of nowhere and knocks you off your feet. Nobody is ever truly prepared to handle the likes of her, sadly. Not that she will ever change her ways or make apologies for the fact that she is the way she is.
(She could blame it on a lack of an upbringing, but hey, that seems to be taking the easy way out of things. Riva is Riva, as crass as they come.)
Of course her song could be heard over the Jungle noise that Riva has become so thoroughly accustomed to shutting out. All the better to hear the trespassers, she thinks, almost grinning wryly to herself. “That’s more like it,” she says laughingly, as the black and gold mare straightens her spine and lifts her chin in steely determination. Riva responds better to shows of strength, like this one; mostly because she appreciates it better than some soft sap traipsing through their lush green country, thinking it is all rainbows and daisies. Well, Riva is likely the first to stomp all over those rainbows and daisies. “Of course you are, isn’t that why you came here in the first place Adalyn?”
Granted, the mare could have been yet another kingdom envoy to stroll across their borders but Riva knew better than that. “I’m Riva by the way, and I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to join us although the decision remains entirely up to Lexa and the Jungle herself.”
Just about everyone could claim royal blood these days, it does not make one special in any way.
Even lowly Riva can claim ties to both the Tundra and the Dale, to a King and a Queen well known, liked, and loved even - except by her, but that is besides the point. Blood, is only that - blood, and scratch both mares open, they’ll bleed the same: red.
Honestly, Riva is a buzzkill. She sucks the joy right out of the room, since misery loves company. Riva though, is about the only constant spark of life in the Jungle, besides their Queen. She strays from one end of the Jungle to the other, in a constant arc of patrol and on most occasions, they handle her abrasive manner just fine. This mare though, seems rather crestfallen to be greeted by a genuine Amazon (hey, she’s taken her oath and is therefore, a sworn sister). Maybe it’s just because Riva isn’t really personable, she’s entirely too blunt - like a gust of skunk air that comes out of nowhere and knocks you off your feet. Nobody is ever truly prepared to handle the likes of her, sadly. Not that she will ever change her ways or make apologies for the fact that she is the way she is.
(She could blame it on a lack of an upbringing, but hey, that seems to be taking the easy way out of things. Riva is Riva, as crass as they come.)
Of course her song could be heard over the Jungle noise that Riva has become so thoroughly accustomed to shutting out. All the better to hear the trespassers, she thinks, almost grinning wryly to herself. “That’s more like it,” she says laughingly, as the black and gold mare straightens her spine and lifts her chin in steely determination. Riva responds better to shows of strength, like this one; mostly because she appreciates it better than some soft sap traipsing through their lush green country, thinking it is all rainbows and daisies. Well, Riva is likely the first to stomp all over those rainbows and daisies. “Of course you are, isn’t that why you came here in the first place Adalyn?”
Granted, the mare could have been yet another kingdom envoy to stroll across their borders but Riva knew better than that. “I’m Riva by the way, and I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to join us although the decision remains entirely up to Lexa and the Jungle herself.”