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Post by WHIPSTER. on Aug 7, 2015 20:06:57 GMT
HER BLOOD WAS MADE TO BURN ,
OPEN.
Daenerys was not quite sure where she was then, caught in some screaming passageway, angry winds whipping around her alabaster curls. It had been her original plan to simply scout-out the surrounding area of their little camp; Fenrir had said not alone! But he did not control her, and she got her way. This whistling drew her in, where others might have fled from view. It seemed that she was correct from the start, the ravine running through close canyon walls, and nobody there to maybe admire the sound. It would've drove any man or woman crazy, but she has always thought herself different enough.
It was hot beside the red clay canyons, but to one who grew up in the desert atmosphere, it was no different than the grasslands or jungle. She was hardly bothered by it, except for the fact that her skin was so easily burned. She had experienced it enough to know when to seek shelter -- and so she did. Daenerys ducked a dead branch, just merely hanging onto the side of the rock, closer to the mouth of the river, where the sound was almost piercing to listen. Dany focused here cerulean gaze to the dead, desert landscaped area with lazy flickers of her ears. There was enough shade just under the ( only ) living tree in sight, just at the waters edge. She was surprised when someone else caught her eye, suddenly feeling skeptical.
Yes, it was a surprise, but Daenerys was no stranger to company. Her velvet kissers slid up, a small smile pressing, making sure to reach the shade before daring to speak. "Spare me a moment?" she inquired, twisting her neck to see their face.
AND SMILE LIKE YOU SAW IN LATE NIGHT MOVIES.
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3 characters
143 posts
Saker
Paradisum
"three guns and one goes off, ones empty, ones not quick enough"
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Post by ▼SPACED. on Aug 13, 2015 11:54:23 GMT
X E L L A ; you're the first and the last of your kind
Every movement was one made of grace, the decades of blood churning in her salted veins giving meaning to every, single, ripple. She was heiress to a lost fortune, the names of her ancestors scattered to the winds and becoming meaningless - but not to her. They were royalty, her family, and hell if she wasn't too. Xella was made from iron. Her bones had been crafted delicately and with finesse, every sharp corner of her divine face was proof enough of that, and yet the strength within her moulded limbs was paramount and insurmountable. An iron princess, soon to be the Iron Queen. She had followed Lear - her doleful twin, and been pleased (if not ecstatic) at the new land he had led her into. It was ripe for the taking. Xel had big plans. The Ravine was not somewhere Xella overly liked - but she'd made sure to investigate every hollow of this land called Tathra, so as not to be caught by surprise by anything. Or anyone. She moved quietly, and so was not surprised as she watched the pale golden hued girl making her way down the horrendous ravine. Xella watched her harshly, aurelian eyes cold underneath their thicket of black and silver lashes. Daenerys was beautiful - and a potential threat, if her family was anything to go by. They, too, had once been rulers - and no family that had lost so much wouldn't want to return to their power. Xel knew about the family because she had made it her business to do so. She had, also, taken a shine to the brother, Fenrir (though they'd never met). Xella could feel the sun burning her back and began to loathe the screaming of the wind - this was no place for her, so far from the ocean and it's mad caress. Instead of turning back, however, she left her nook in the rocks and slipped closer to Dany, pleased at how silent her steps were. It took only a moment for Daenerys to see her, though it could have been longer for all the gold haired girl would have known. "Spare me a moment?". Ah, so kind. Xel responds with a lick of her teeth and something that closely resembled a smile. She wasn't good at friendship, and didn't want to be. She looked to the river coolly, before saying: "I'm Xella."
ooc; WHIPSTER. hope you don't mind her knowing who Dany is etc. I just thought it would make it more interesting! <3
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Post by WHIPSTER. on Aug 14, 2015 20:35:42 GMT
HER BLOOD WAS MADE TO BURN ,
She knew her name before it was spoken, officially, which left the pale girl half stunned. If it had been her twin ( the blue boy she remembers well ) things would have been different. Daenerys wouldn't be here, feeling trapped, almost suffocating on the hard winds and screaming ravine. She looks more composed than that, a small smile curling the ends of her pinkish lips, and she nods toward Xella, but it is half hearted. "I think I remember," she comments, focusing her eyes on the other woman's body, and less so her face. In mere moments, she has become very unsure of herself. She feels judged, her skin crawls where the others eyes probably linger. She has always felt this way next to Nexus' daughter.
Daenerys swallows, remains cordial, but inside she is beating herself up for not recruiting Fenrir to come with her. He was always good at talking to the Iron Princess, unbothered by her brashness, almost fascinated with her eyes that screamed of something she couldn't quite place. "I'm very surprised to see you here, Xella. Has Lear come, too?" She tries to pull the conversation in her favor. She wants to stand over the tension, even though she is currently caught smack in the middle of it. She wonders if Xella knows what has happened to her family, how it was torn apart, or even what of anyone who stayed behind. Dany remembers the island in which they lived, just beside their little piece of mountainside, she would always look out to the jungle when things were tough. Her parents loved to visit, often.
The cremello shifts, and starts forward. She keeps her ears on the other mare whilst her cerulean eyes are focused on the small spot of shade, where she slips inside and is instantly relieved. It's still hot, she is still miserable in that sense, but her skin will not endure much more before burning a crisp. "Fenrir will be pleased to know you are here. Have you seen him yet?" It's a sharply spoken question, because she knows the answer.
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