got a devil on your back so shake it out

[Straia]

sometimes we want what we want --
    -- even if we know it’s going to kill us.

Straia had grown up with the quiet too, in a dead kingdom that her father let suffer. She’d grown amidst the pine trees and the mist, the fog that never seemed to burn away in the depth of the Chamber’s forest. She’d love it, in a way, though she had not settled for such mediocrity for long. Straia never did, for she was not made to be mediocre. Even if history, even now, would someday forget her name, she would not settle for less than something spectacular while she walked the earth.

Anything could be, she replies with a bit of a mischievous smirk and a roll of her shoulders that seems like a shrug. There was perhaps a reason raven’s were omens or symbols to many, signs of ill fortune ahead or perhaps good luck. Sometimes all those stories hold some buried truth. Straia contemplates creating a whole murder of them just for the demonstration, the spectacle of it, though in the end she does not. She’s used enough magic fixing Pangea’s flood as of late, so best to conserve.

What would you like to do? she responds, leaving the choice in the filly’s hands. We have fighters and diplomats, and most choose one side or another. Which is not to say that you cannot be both, in some regard. I was always more of a diplomat, though I can hold my own on the battlefield. We do lack for diplomats, if you need some sort of nudging in one direction or another.

-- straia

the raven queen

@[Aela]