WILDS ━☆・*。

Netflix’s The Punisher Sentence Starters (pt 1) @madehimselfreal

   Slowly fading sunlight cast an array of various pigments of cadmium as the afternoon glow drifted toward the early signs of the evening – Morrigan having coveted herself a spot on one of Skyhold’s courtyard benches after a drawn out tour of the fortress by the Inquisition ambassador upon her arrival, though the allure of the Eluvian was far too great to stay in a room out of reach as she had been offered one within. Yet another force seemed to pull at the back of her mind, silent and subtly familiar it came creeping at first when she had journeyed through the front gates and then the sensation pooled comfortably across her mind like a blanket when she ventured further within the confines of Skyhold’s walls. An entity was at work she had known, having encountered similar stirs to her being amongst her teachings with Flemeth and of her own travels. Queer as it was, this feeling held no malice or temptation yet she remained suspicious all the same. Said spirit materialized without a sound, appearing as a young boy dressed to something akin to what a scarecrow might wear and mumbling out a sentence that made little sense.

Netflix’s The Punisher Sentence Starters (pt 1)

   In whispered tones came the occasional soft giggle from the pair of wardens centered at the front of their small band of misfits as they traversed Ferelden, an occasional sideways glance behind from Alistair had only deepened the now suspicion that whatever the two were conspiring was most assuredly a jape directed at her – much to Morrigan’s lack of amusement. It wasn’t until they had stopped to make camp that their fearless leader had approached her with an expression that already looked close to breaking out in laughter as a twinge of muscles pinched her eyelids to a partial close. With careful and slow breaths came the question that was so near to sending Isera into a fit of hysterics and almost just as soon soured Morrigan’s expression. Truly she had been surrounded by children.

Netflix’s The Punisher Sentence Starters (pt 1) || @higheverbled        

   Droll was an evening bathed in shifting shadows cast from masked forms whispering their false truths in hushed tones. How she would’ve wished to disrupt such a haughty display of a formal event with fire and flames to rival any dragon, yet,  she only regarded each noble that wished her well in passing with a measured gaze akin to a cat eying its prey. The once idea of serving the empress had now held distaste in her mind as the completion of the eluvian had all but eluded Celene’s thoughts and instead her increasing desire of knowledge for dark magic consumed her as rumors of a possible assassination attempt became known – though this would surely change the moment the inquisition proved successful. If they succeeded. So, dutifully she stood five paces beside her ruler, overlooking guests with a cool demeanor any respectable advisor would possess.       It was at the sound of a distressed cry that fixed her view to the spot – a darting figure having caused three ice sculptures to topple over in succession and a buffet table in the process, leaving four noble women with stained and smeared dresses of food. A laugh had bubbled to her chest before the back of her hand caught what threatened to escape between mauve lips. The culprit in question having been seized mere moments after, the encroaching guard having cornered and snagged the man under the arms. When drawn closer for judgement, the familiar face of the Hero of Ferelden adorned the captive and once this was realized by Celene – ordered his release just as easily. Silence invaded the space between them as each looked on in mute surprise, neither one prepared for this sudden encounter. Though it was the low notes of Lorin that ended the quiet, seeking approval in soft spoken words.

   “You lack finesse.” she replied, a twinge of some hidden smile withdrawn into golden irises.

Netflix’s The Punisher Sentence Starters (pt 1)

   When the sun is high enough – painted crystal held a better view in shades of cadmium, vermilion, and cobalt. Each pigment displaying dancing blurred images of shadowed foliage on rough-hewn pages. The Eluvian had provided its own light, but stained glass was peaceful to watch in its way. An almost reminder of the simple things she used to explore as a child of the wood. Yet gold flecked eyes scanned the weathered grimoire with intensity, hoping in their search to find anything that may have been overlooked – aside from a small stolen hand book neatly resting on one corner of sheet, providing little insight of what she sought of the mirrors. Relief from dull reading came in the form of the journal’s owner, a version of disdain playing over his tightly knit brow. His words slow and measured, a subtle threat to any who scared easily. Though she sat, unmoved and unafraid on her cherry lacquered pew.

“No?”