09-06-2016, 01:49 PM
thorrun;
Thorunn has felt the ground shake beneath her and woke up in a new land so far from everything she knows and loves. The Valley was her hold to her mother, to her father, to her sister...and now? This shell land, this shadow place, it's nothing like the warm comforts she knew from home. It's alien and foreign and makes her skin crawl with its strangeness.
But - her father wouldn't have wanted her to suffer this way. He would have simply turned an orange eye to the faded landscape, probably rolled his shoulders in his noncomittal way, and trotted to some new land to make another name for himself.
It's funny that Thorunn associates him with the Valley, he was king of so many other places. The Dale, the Tundra...never the Valley. No, he told her - one night - that he returned to the Valley simply to find his daughter Aranea. "She is much like you," he told her once. She knew it was one of his few and far between compliments.
"I will," she says to the group, her orange eyes unblinking. It's small, but it's growing. She wishes nothing more than to hold on to those remnants of before. But...but something bothers her, and so she voices it. "It is of my opinion, though, that we should not try to ... recreate the Valley. This is a new land, a new day. Should we not embrace change?" It was a silly, childish thing to say - she is too young to know that Beqanna has changed and changed and changed. The original lands her father ruled are no longer, the ground she walks on it but one face of a many faced beast. Her eyes flicker to the mare to the side, and they pause - they look so similar, her and the mute. Orange eyes, stocky frame...
But - her father wouldn't have wanted her to suffer this way. He would have simply turned an orange eye to the faded landscape, probably rolled his shoulders in his noncomittal way, and trotted to some new land to make another name for himself.
It's funny that Thorunn associates him with the Valley, he was king of so many other places. The Dale, the Tundra...never the Valley. No, he told her - one night - that he returned to the Valley simply to find his daughter Aranea. "She is much like you," he told her once. She knew it was one of his few and far between compliments.
"I will," she says to the group, her orange eyes unblinking. It's small, but it's growing. She wishes nothing more than to hold on to those remnants of before. But...but something bothers her, and so she voices it. "It is of my opinion, though, that we should not try to ... recreate the Valley. This is a new land, a new day. Should we not embrace change?" It was a silly, childish thing to say - she is too young to know that Beqanna has changed and changed and changed. The original lands her father ruled are no longer, the ground she walks on it but one face of a many faced beast. Her eyes flicker to the mare to the side, and they pause - they look so similar, her and the mute. Orange eyes, stocky frame...