[private] Straia;

[Straia]

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

“What a shame,” she says, though it is clearly not a shame. Those that grovel aren’t the kind worth her time. She wants a fight, wants a challenge, wants an equal. Weed had been an equal, Warship had been an equal. Both of them had never groveled at her feet. Weed walked away, left her wanting time and time again, though of course she had always chosen the Chamber over him. Not that this new stallion lived in the realm of space Weed had occupied for Straia, but perhaps something similar to Warship. Her general; stoic, unwilling to shy away from a battle.

The simmering ember of a stallion before her didn’t seem like the type to shy away from anything either. No, he seemed to burn in the same way she did, seemed to yearn toward some unseen future. Did he know that his name had been on the lips of the group that had found her first? That they said his name with the same trepidation as they once said hers?

For a moment, worlds burn in her mind.

If he had tasted her skin, she might have even let him. Maybe. She can never be sure even of her own actions sometimes, but he might be worthy.

“And in this case, who is the monster?” she asks, the question rhetorical. The answer is obvious, for they are both monsters, both predators circling one another deciding if they ally or they kill. “I am curious though, what is it about us that seems so very different than the other dead swarming Beqanna?” Us because she is not the only one. There are others, she can feel them, feel their connection to the land. She has no idea who they are, only that they move as living things do.

The mares that had approached had been pleasant enough. The stallion had been convinced that she could tell him what was going on in Beqanna. In truth, she couldn’t tell him everything. Some things, yes, many more hunches certainly, but all the details were lost even to her right now. Beqanna revealed things in her time. Besides, even if Straia did know all the details he’d picked the wrong mare to come barking at, huffing and puffing like an out of breath wolf. She was hardly likely to tell him anything unless it suited her, and it didn’t suit her.

This one though, she may divulge a few secrets. He says his name, and grin grows just a bit wider. “Ah, I have heard your name. What have you done to get them in such a tizzy?” It is a compliment that she’s only been alive for a few hours and already his infamy has made its way to her.

-- straia

the raven queen

@[Castile]