Strange Place || Any

[Kagerus]

Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.

Amarantha. Long, demanding attention to detail, the kind of name that I feel would not be wise to forget. I commit it to memory, attaching it to the way the witch's green eyes faintly glimmer in the afternoon sun. Though her figure is far stronger than mine, muscular and broad and intimidating, I do not lessen my stance.

It is not pride that steels my spine, but an understanding that respect, between us, is to be earned. Both ways.

"I come from the sanctuary kingdom, Hyaline." Both our ears flick attentively to our surroundings (and does that sound like hoofsteps approaching?) but I am gratified by Amarantha's consistency, by her intensive stare. My ribs twitch. We are very alike.

I smile at her next comment - a dark expression, pleased, knowing. The mare is ept. Insightful. "Yes, mine is a mountainous kingdom." I pause, mulling over my words, choosing which to speak and which to stifle.

"In this land, Beqanna, there are many kingdoms. My own, as I said, is a sanctuary, especially for the young." My eyes part from hers momentarily, perusing the curves and hardlines of her impressive figure. "But don't let that dissuade you. We are not a kingdom full of light creatures, nor do we want to be. We have castes of peace and war, but our warriors are lacking." Another smile. Knowing. "You could fix that."

As my speech concludes, a black mare who smells of Nerine approaches. I shoot my nutmeg eyes over to where she places herself, and I nod in recognition. "Greetings," I murmur. But she is not who I am here to focus on; and so, my eyes return to Rant.

Kagerus

sweet nothing