anyone;

[sochi]

Sochi

darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't

It doesn’t take her long to make her way to this new home.

The journey from the island to Tephra, cutting across the volcanic land and then skirting between the forests of Sylva and Taiga brings her directly to Loess. The land smells heavily of strangers and she spends some time investigating it in her tiger form—spotting a mare held captive in a cave, and a lion clearly held against his will—before she finds her way to Castile. Her expression is bland when she finally spots him, his blackened wings held together against his body, the gold of him glinting.

Her eyes are unreadable as she shifts from tigress to horse, a faint flecking of blood on her chin the only evidence of a meal taken as a carnivore and the full belly that she carries in the aftermath.

She walks up to his side, quietly studying the land around them—his new kingdom—before she angles her head in his direction, a corner of her mouth lifting into a faint echo of a smile. “This will do,” she says simply, although she admits that she likes the kingdom—and, without knowing his history here, she cannot help but think that it suits him. Something about its wild beauty reflects his own.

“You have taken on an interesting place,” she muses, still keeping her cards close to her chest, thinking back to the images of the captives and the stolen and a kingdom dripping in violence. Perhaps as a child she may have grown squeamish of it, but such things are beyond her now. She doesn’t shy away from it or pass judgement. She merely observes, ever calm in the face of the dynamite lying beneath them.

“I imagine the next few months will be interesting.”

To say the very least.

playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf

@[Castile]