she's no saint but she'll take you to your knees
try her boy but she'll still do what she please
He is a King she is not familiar with, a face she cannot place- a person she does know; but he walks with an elegance that she not capable of, and holds his head in a fashion that would not suit her own war-like nature. She does begrudge this, instead she observes: recalling the name Magnus has spoken to her of, and the picture that had well been painted into her mind of the stallion. Rocking on hooves she stretches on her platform, feels the muscles tense and all the bones relieves of the pressure from the swollen midsection. He speaks in her wake and she considers the way he observes her, how he responds and how he directs a question to her that prompts her to adjust her stance.
A single foreleg steps in front of the other and she drops slowly from the small elevation: sauntering in an almost feline manner towards the King who has arrived. Not compliance so much as manner, she stops and waits: speaking up softly at first; but still bearing a stern tone to the smoky and lilting accent of her words. “I would only be burden outside of this border, too heavy to run quickly and my body is not in conditions optimal to contest an illness.” to the point and straight forward she mulls on it, thinks and continues after taking a second.
“I will remain, assist those in need, and when I am recovered I will do what I do best…” though she does not specify what that is, her voice is cut back by the appearance of Magnus: of the very man who brought her here.
Chaos is a ladder, a slide, a form of descent and madness.
Aysel recognizes it when she sees it; but for the split second it exists- there is something more she feels, some fire in the darkness of it all. Listening with rapt attention and sobriety she mulls over and on, thinks- and takes seconds to watch as they all gather. Her ears slip back and part the reddish blonde mane and the Amazonian Warbringer can only smile in some way as she listens and watches the elder stallion.
“Found your fire.” she states, bold and with menace- leering at him with those dark blue eyes and their silver flecks.
Giving time she waits, speaking up to all gathered with a simple tenor and tone. “Regardless of your decisions and choices of leadership and change- do keep in mind this offering of a plan I give to you: to us. Tephra is safe and so is the land nearby: this means we we have a singular mass where there is contagion and plague capable of being found. Many swarm to claim and to rebuild; but if we are to survive than we must capitalize on maintaining ourselves and our safeties.” she pauses.
In the wake of change she continues, noting here and there remarks and gazes. “While we should not split up wholly, we should build the ranks of Tephra first. Establishing these will give our Kingdom the benefit of order and task; but after that we need consider the lands with ours. Herdland or sub-kingdom, regardless we will need to monitor and maintain these… build alliance with whomsoever comes as a means to create peace in our region. Spies, diplomats, and yes- soldiers as well will all play roles here.”
In the belly of madness she shines, she stands: and blossoms in a way she had not in many years. Standing at full height she towers and lifts her head, the ancient woman peering at the whole as they continue political discussion and the mutinous change.
Begrudge him, she does not, but she maintains a stare on her paramour for a time and considers the words she wishes to say as others pledge loyalty and speak in the face of new-options. She notes the dispersal of Kromium and the others, the collection that remains and for a moment she twitches an ear in frustration; but does not belay any of it when finally her voice culminates into the air. “It shouldn’t surprise you I have remained,” she pauses to deadpan at Magnus. “Tephra needs us: all of us, and I do not abandon cause nor promise. You are a King again, now, and it is up to you to build your kingdom.” her attentions breaks as she looks to her swollen belly and pained muscles.
Low growling reverberates through her throat and she sighs. “Seems someone is eager to join it.” she murmurs, waiting.
