texts from last night , accepting !

     she’s watching from a COMFORTABLE DISTANCE as he practices, one of the queen’s warriors. as she watched the way things worked in this nation, she had heard his name spoken numerous times - PYRY. he seemed to be highly respected among his people, and the plan set in her mind was simple. if she could gain his respect, she’d be able to gain the respect of others who still merely saw her as TRIKRU. and so she stepped forward, brushing past the men gathered watching him with surprising ease and confidence. ‘ hei ! ‘ she called out, tongue sharp, with a hint of her woods clan accent coming through. ‘ it is pyry, CORRECT? ‘ comes her question, harmless in nature, as spear is removed from its holster at her side. ‘ mind if i try? ‘  

send me a ⊙ and i’ll make a six song playlist for our muses , accepting !

              look at these battle-hardened children of war ;

with scars far older than their skin; their bloodied knuckles and bruised lips, trying to learn how to live again. they grew to feel the sound of gunfire as their heartbeat, recall the taste of copper and ash on their tongues, sanctified in blood and smoke, cast in steel and leather; winter chill in the bones and desert heat in the lungs. ∗