Nyxa
She hadn’t meant to offend and still the brief stare is caught, all the same. Curiosity still drives her, much like it does her mother, and it’s only the longing to understand that had brought about the glance in the first place - nothing to do with cruelty or ill-tempered thoughts. Nyxa herself is incapable of being a bitch, for lack of a better term; her edges and mannerisms are rough, but only because she’s been quite literally raised among wolves and still feels the ache in her neck from looking up to twin brothers.
It makes the idea of them being brothers all the more appealing to her. “Something else we share in common.” She thinks excitedly, mirroring the quiet smile Hod flashes in her direction. Bragi is outnumbered, it would seem. Between Nyxa and his enthusiastic brother, it hardly comes as a surprise when he urges her to lead the way. “You’re doing me a favor, I assure you.” She laughs, giddy from snagging a double on her first recruit attempt.
Fate has a funny way of working out.
“Our destination is Ischia - an island offshore that’s a bit too far of a swim from here.” She explains with a slight grimace, turning her hooves in a flurry of action so that she could position herself northwest, towards the Riverlands. The sudden motion causes her mane and tail to disperse in a colorful flag of green, every strand illuminated in the glittering sun as she twirls on light feet. Her wings, still hard and immobile, dazzle onlookers with their flashing sentiments and merry noise. She’s element and nature composed in a body of flesh and blood; Made-from-Love, as jah-Lilah would say.
“So first we’ll head to the River,” She beams, glancing behind to where her newfound friends wait. With the jerk of her pale head, she motions for them to join her and then just as swiftly she’s moving ahead into a brisk walk, all earlier worries about Hod and his condition forgotten with the urgency to simply get home. “We can camp there until the tide rolls out; it’ll be safer to cross without any water.” She chitters, animated in every gesture or move she makes.
What she doesn’t mention is that, by that time, more than likely it will be nightfall. Already the brisk chill is settling into her bones, before long it might be unbearable, especially with them lumbering north.
Nervous, she lurches into a slightly faster gait with hopes of calming her hammering heart.
Wayward daughter of Canaan and Circinae
@[Bragi] Next post for them will be up in Ischia shortly!