is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
”Everyone seeks conquest, in some way or another,” comes a voice, cool and smoky and unimpressed, before the black and white mare appears. There is nothing particularly remarkable about her. No horns, no wings, no strange coloring. She is simply a mare, though one with lifetimes in her amber eyes, one that holds herself in a way that screams of power. Something beyond the magic they know, something primal, instinctual, tied to this place they call Beqanna. She is a part of it now, shaped and made into something new.
Nearby, a tree grows from the ground at rapid-speed, a pine-tree that once belonged to the place Straia had called home. As it reaches its full height, the tree begins to burn. It is a tree made of pine needles and fires, though the fire does not consume the wood. No, it would simply burn forever. Her eyes turn to the two figures before her, and though she knows them both, she cares only for Sochi.
“This is where you have settled, for now?”
Nearby, a tree grows from the ground at rapid-speed, a pine-tree that once belonged to the place Straia had called home. As it reaches its full height, the tree begins to burn. It is a tree made of pine needles and fires, though the fire does not consume the wood. No, it would simply burn forever. Her eyes turn to the two figures before her, and though she knows them both, she cares only for Sochi.
“This is where you have settled, for now?”
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission