Sex: FemaleI think that the first to post here should be Kisla.. and that she and Kyrja will interact for a bit, before Marsh shows up. Fírnen might show up at any time, and if Rhysis wants to come, it has to be as the PP leader because I get a headache otherwise. xP I am fairly certain Triell will show up at the end, too. If no one minds I'd love for Ice to appear when everything is pretty much over, as to not get in the way of the planned things but still have been here and seen it. If someone else wants in on this, please go to <a href='http://relic-lore.net/index.php?showtopic=1652' target='_blank'>this thread</a>, because that's the "planning center" for this event! Happy roleplaying :)
LET'S PLAY A GAME OF TWO
Restless, with the need to stretch her legs overwhelming, Valkyrja had abandoned her post as the beggar Hollow member that flinched at any sound. Coming here, no well there, had been a mistake. The cacophony of crows in the Ghastly Woods had promised greatness, but all she'd gotten was a second with a stick up her arse, a plateful of pack politics, and a more or less missing brother. She'd found nothing but filth, a waste of time, a waste of oxygen even speaking to her pack mates. Every breath they drew was an insult, and not even a well-needed bath in a freezing creek had erased the stink of Grizzly Hollow from her sleek fur. Frustration and disgust had locked her mind down and it wasn't until a goodly while later that she found enough composure to think again. She'd taken a thorough spring rubbing among the trees, blowing out old winter fur and getting out some nasty grit, and after a careful grooming, she looked her old self again - slender, a pale beauty with eyes of liquid shadows. Her fur was soft and smooth, but most importantly, clean. She still smelled of pack, but.. there was noting much she could do about it.
She'd done a few excursions here and there to get away from the oppressive existence in a pack, enough to map out the most nearby pack - Swift River. She'd not met any of them nor gone close enough to actually figure out who they were, but she'd seen some youngsters, and guessed they were last year's pups. Spring had Valkyrja torn between the desire to rip off the faces of anyone who wasn't Fírnen (and sometimes him too), and the desire to.. have children. The last notion scared her so much she preferred to imagine doing nasty things to young pretty girls instead. It was effective at keeping vanity and sanity intact.. though from an outside point of view, the latter could be doubted. Now, though, the pale female had grown tired of her life. She needed action. She needed to pull strings and laugh as the puppets danced.
With precise motions she loped through the Sacred Grove, feeling strangely vulnerable without her black raven shadow hovering nearby. But, he had only himself to blame... She didn't even know where he was, and that was rare. She pushed the gnawing worry aside, and focused instead on this afternoon adventure. The sun was slowly sliding towards the horizon, the shadows lengthening while warm golden sunlight still lingered, filtering down between budding branches. Pleasant enough, and to stretch her limber legs felt good after weeks of running about crouched. It was a wonder no one had demoted her to "lowest" simply because they could. Oh, well - try that and they might get a set of teeth in their noses. Valkyrja did have limits on just how low she'd stoop for the games she and her brother played.
She was homing in on her target like a well-aimed missile, the stench of Swift River going stronger and stronger with each drift of wind against her face. A smile curved her dark lips, a flash of worn teeth in the shadows before she commanded her face to relax. Smile like that, any even the mice knew you were up to no good! Still, her own special brand of eudemonia settled in her belly like warm wine, spreading contentment through her body as she moved. This was what she thrived on, even though she had no plan. Just skirt around their area, not close enough to warrant any real inspection, but not far enough away not to encounter someone. Then, she'd see what opportunities presented itself... and just go with the flow of whatever happened.
In the waning light, she smiled again, but her dark eyes were cold as death.
She'd done a few excursions here and there to get away from the oppressive existence in a pack, enough to map out the most nearby pack - Swift River. She'd not met any of them nor gone close enough to actually figure out who they were, but she'd seen some youngsters, and guessed they were last year's pups. Spring had Valkyrja torn between the desire to rip off the faces of anyone who wasn't Fírnen (and sometimes him too), and the desire to.. have children. The last notion scared her so much she preferred to imagine doing nasty things to young pretty girls instead. It was effective at keeping vanity and sanity intact.. though from an outside point of view, the latter could be doubted. Now, though, the pale female had grown tired of her life. She needed action. She needed to pull strings and laugh as the puppets danced.
With precise motions she loped through the Sacred Grove, feeling strangely vulnerable without her black raven shadow hovering nearby. But, he had only himself to blame... She didn't even know where he was, and that was rare. She pushed the gnawing worry aside, and focused instead on this afternoon adventure. The sun was slowly sliding towards the horizon, the shadows lengthening while warm golden sunlight still lingered, filtering down between budding branches. Pleasant enough, and to stretch her limber legs felt good after weeks of running about crouched. It was a wonder no one had demoted her to "lowest" simply because they could. Oh, well - try that and they might get a set of teeth in their noses. Valkyrja did have limits on just how low she'd stoop for the games she and her brother played.
She was homing in on her target like a well-aimed missile, the stench of Swift River going stronger and stronger with each drift of wind against her face. A smile curved her dark lips, a flash of worn teeth in the shadows before she commanded her face to relax. Smile like that, any even the mice knew you were up to no good! Still, her own special brand of eudemonia settled in her belly like warm wine, spreading contentment through her body as she moved. This was what she thrived on, even though she had no plan. Just skirt around their area, not close enough to warrant any real inspection, but not far enough away not to encounter someone. Then, she'd see what opportunities presented itself... and just go with the flow of whatever happened.
In the waning light, she smiled again, but her dark eyes were cold as death.
I'LL PLAY GOD AND YOU'LL PLAY YOU
