Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
The lack of objections was at once heartening and humbling. Maea watched the king's receding back for a few moments longer, stirred by sentiment she couldn't quite name. When she finally moved, it was with a renewed determination. A whisper of wings saw her past Hadama and out into the open air, off across the Crust where prey was easier to spot. Getting tired of my own words
She was a bit late in returning, and when she finally appeared it was in another guise, the white molten tiger dragging the carcass of a young pyrina by the neck. Somehow she had managed to abstain from making her meal out of the fresh meat alone, though the chase and subsequent kill had still left her chops and paws with a coating of crimson.
Dropping her trophy next to Hadama, the tiger leveled a pale golden stare at him, before it moved past him towards the spring. Even as it walked, it began to shimmer, and it was Maea who reached her hands into the trickle of water, to rinse the gore from hands and face. It was... embarrassing, to be seen like this. Like being caught without clothes, forced to confront sides of herself she had yet to fully embrace or accept.
Without saying anything she returned to start taking apart the meat, only looking up to see how the chef would like the meat prepared.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
