#arachling

SHE IS NO STRANGER TO BATTLES, : on the contrary, ... IT SEEMS THAT IS ALL HER LIFE HAS BEEN! A CHOICE OF HER OWN, 𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘. she had witnessed just how gruesome battlefields can leave people, she too had worn blood that is not her own. ... but she does not think she is wrong in saying the other looks pleased with this look, CRIMSON DECORATING HIS ARMOR. @arachling ❛ well? how do i look? ❜

and for a moment, she is not here - the setting remains the same, the battle changes; and he is not himself, but another - so like him, in many ways. she'd patched his wounds then, too - a badge of pride, a mark of a raid well done - of an enemy destroyed. but the night warden has long since left that place, and a'byssel is not one of her men. they are gone - and this one remains. " your endurance is admirable - " the edge of command is a sharp blade that she wields with ease; tempered if only for a moment as her cold gaze lingers. " - but you need not lie to preserve your pride. " the silence that falls then is heavy - and minthara moves to rip some fabric from her pack; dousing it in cold water from one of her many waterskins before she presses it to a'byssel's armour, cleaning his wound; staunching the bleeding with a hand that has done this many, many times; oddly gentle, for once; soft where she once had been rigid. " do you think that i let my own bleed out on the battle field? what a poor excuse of a war mistress i would have made - hardly worthy of the title, were i to misuse such fighters. " her laugh is harsh - but it means well.

" i believe you may be beyond my own capabilities; but it is nothing some casting will not fix. do not worry, i will not let you bleed out all over my boots. it would be a waste of good leather; and that, i will not allow."

YOUR WICKED WAYS ARE KNOWN CAT : to strive to meet your own goals ━━━━ unfortunate ones are those who cross your path. her path is 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘 : not a villain, not a hero. GRACEFULLY AS ONE CAN EXPECT, SHE BALANCES THE LINE. ... actions that drove her, lead by the desires of her own heart &. mind. ━━━━ so it seems same applies to him, takes one to recognize another.

@arachling : “ maybe it makes me selfish. i don’t think it makes me wrong. “

she pulls up a seat beside him. and for a moment, fable is quiet. it's a pleasant sort of silence; comfortable. she smiles to herself, thinking of the quiet when they'd first met; how disconcerting it had been, back when she'd scarcely known a'byssel by more than name. ❝ I've been thinking, ❞ she starts, quietly, voice soft as the dawn itself. ❝ you remember what I said a few days ago? well, I wanted to say... that I meant it. and I wanted to make sure you really understand what that means. I know in your culture those sort of emotions aren't really... how is it... something that's discussed? ❞ she couldn't imagine that love didn't exist in drow society, but fable understood enough to know that it looked different than maybe what she would call love.

two word sentences.

florence realized her mistake the moment the words left her mouth. it could be worse, she had joked. i’d tell you how, but you wouldn’t believe me. she had laughed, too. 

she isn’t laughing now, but she is staring. “ well. . . ” is there really a situation that compares to this? her mind searches for an answer – it conjures ash and smoke in the air, and blood on the streets. for the briefest of moments, she thinks she feels a white-hot pain in her shoulder.

OH IF LOOKS COULD KILL, : your appearance would be the main culprit! ... but no, this time it is the way 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏, IT COULD CUT WOUNDS AS DEEP AS HER CLAWS COULD! arms crossed, head tilted to her side, ... observing every single sentence coated by a white curtain : misguiding is her thing, she is bound to call others' bluff. ( takes one to recognize another! ) their arrival to back to the city has been, something, &. this warm welcome by lord gortash is 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄. his glances at her, too inspecting, whilst making making rounds of each &. every one of them : commenting them on their past, their achievements. never forgetting to take subtle, low blows. &. THEN HE EVEN DARES TO LEAVE A SUGGESTION OF COOPERATION, she wanted to scratch him to pieces then &. there, ... ❝ i loathe that man. ❞ a sharp hiss, as they exit the grand hall. his brainwashed soldiers around, but far enough away to offer the group privacy. a'byssel by her side.