[private] hangman hooded; ana

[Anaxarete]

HELLO DARKNESS, MY OLD FRIEND The creatures of old were coming alive. She could feel them - sense their familiarity creeping into a strange, foreign world. The shadowmare drank it in, the knowledge that the world she had known was not dead. Not yet. Not completely.  While the kingdoms of old may have been taken from them, they did not have to remain idle in this new world. They could build something new out of what was thought to be gone.  It was for this reason that she was unsurprised to find Atrox in Pangea. “It’s certainly not,” she replies, simply, “This place doesn’t have a heartbeat, for one,” she adds, with a smirk.  Her cold gaze moves from Atrox across the desolate looking landscape of Pangea. It was nearly the opposite of the Chamber.  The air was dry, no heavy with moisture from the thick fog.  There was no rolling forest - no lingering smell of evergreens and moisture. But there was a different appeal to Pangea.  Like the Chamber, Pangea clung to her secrets. This, at least, Anaxarete could appreciate.  It was that and the potential in these lands.  Magic of old had raised them, lingered in the sandy soil beneath their feet.  “It’s bleak, it’s dry, but it’s ours,” she uses the plural intentionally. She knows better than to assume why he’s come, but also knows him well enough to have at least some inkling of his motivation. “Just because the Chamber is beyond our reach,” she says, refusing to admit aloud that the Chamber is truly and completely gone.  A pregnant pause lingers as something akin to mischief flickers in her cold eyes. “Doesn’t mean that we have to go quietly into the dark, now does it?” A N A X A R E T E

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@[Atrox]