Sweet speak with a mean streak; Isilya

[Warlight]

Warlight

 

In the time she has spent with her queen, the majority of it was in the light of that easy smile. But there is something a little different in the curve of the smile she receives now - something a little more intimate - something that sparks the start of true loyalty.

But the pale mare's look grows careful, and Will takes that as a sign that what she has said is being thoughtfully considered. When compared to the majority of Beqanna, Warlight was young. Her ten years were divided between two lifetimes, and she had always felt young. That Isilya would like her to elaborate never crosses her mind. Instead, she is making a point to keep her answers concise. To voice her opinion, but not overstep into a roll she has not been asked to fill.

"You make a convincing argument," she says, truly swayed. There is a thrum of excitement in her belly at the prospect of a fight, like the snap of a readied bow-string. Maybe testing themselves against warriors from another nation would inspire her, and her fellow Tephrans, to train harder than sparing with brothers and friends. Even if they withheld the extent of their powers during the mocks.

"I will see if I can find any others who will join me, and we will be ready to travel or to meet the Loessians here."

— soul as sweet as blood red jam —