08-24-2018, 01:06 PM
The bitter wind rips away any pleasantness there might have been on this journey, and so despite the new (and beautiful) landscapes, my stern expression does not falter. The feathers of my golden wings help hold in the heat, but there is no protection for my legs and face. An early winter wind whips at the long strands of my navy mane and tail, and when I finally reach the edge of Hyaline I am grateful for the boulders to shelter behind.
I call for Ilma, knowing my voice will be carried by the wind and the shape of the valley. I’ve no intention of venturing past the border, so she’ll need to come to me.
”Color me impressed.” are the first words out of my mouth. ”I didn’t think you Hyalinites had it in you to retaliate.” There’s nothing in my expression to suggest that I’m truly impressed; if anything the lack of emotion has shifted to something between pity and disdain.
”I don’t suppose the terms of your steal are the same as mine?” At that there is a bit of a smile of my sharply angled face, but it is meant only for me, and not for her. Of course the terms aren’t the same; she’s completely unaware of what they would have been. I would have told her upon her arrival to Loess, but I never got the chance. Instead, Ilma had allowed her monarchs to leap over civil diplomacy and directly into threats of war.
The irony of it brings a smile to my face; Hyaline, the sanctuary, stealing mothers away from their children and attempting to start a war. Perhaps they’re undergoing a rebranding of their own.
@[Ilma]
I call for Ilma, knowing my voice will be carried by the wind and the shape of the valley. I’ve no intention of venturing past the border, so she’ll need to come to me.
”Color me impressed.” are the first words out of my mouth. ”I didn’t think you Hyalinites had it in you to retaliate.” There’s nothing in my expression to suggest that I’m truly impressed; if anything the lack of emotion has shifted to something between pity and disdain.
”I don’t suppose the terms of your steal are the same as mine?” At that there is a bit of a smile of my sharply angled face, but it is meant only for me, and not for her. Of course the terms aren’t the same; she’s completely unaware of what they would have been. I would have told her upon her arrival to Loess, but I never got the chance. Instead, Ilma had allowed her monarchs to leap over civil diplomacy and directly into threats of war.
The irony of it brings a smile to my face; Hyaline, the sanctuary, stealing mothers away from their children and attempting to start a war. Perhaps they’re undergoing a rebranding of their own.
@[Ilma]
