Landsharks are admittedly more of an idea to her than an actuality. Something she can get the shape of, but can't quite describe in full, never having really seen or dealt with them. Proof enough of all the trials of every region though, for King's End has its own troubles, as Sunjata had well put use of her electric fence to instead. "Mm, I imagine there's a good number of things to account for along with the landsharks," she admits, wrinkling her nose as much for the smell of the bog as the realization that should she decide to take this path, it'd require more than a whim. She should probably study what she's getting into, or find people that had the knowledge already, people she could trust. Question is, would they be willing?
That Deimos doesn't immediately cast her a fool and laugh at the idea is all a continual reassurance. It might be wild to imagine, but she has held wildness in her hands plenty of times and molded it before. A practiced type, she will admit, but that, if anything, emboldens her to rise up to something new and test her mettle against it. Carefulness had gotten her here, with nothing but loss to show time and time again, until now it's naught but memory. "I think there is always something worthy to be found in the places that are hard won. A certain beauty, to the things that give warning." Not that beauty is high on her list of requirements, but the desert appeals to her in that way, and she can imagine the blooming spectacle he describes is one such splendor hidden among the hardship. Life builds itself into every niche, and it creates defenses to protect itself. What might the desert be like, if some of those layers of armor get peeled back? Something shiny, yet to be found, polished beneath the grit?
"Do you find it hard," she wonders quietly, more direct now than theoretical. "Getting people to thrive in Halo? You've many more years of practice there, but I know that land is harsh in its own way. I imagine they all were, once." Even Torchline, for its shining luxuries now, surely did not start out so amiable to citizenship. Some easier than others, she's sharp enough to notice that—here, for instance, seems like a miserable place to exist now matter how she squints at it to try and find something redeeming. She supposes every creature that already lives here though has taken a certain liking to it, and maybe one day some person would lay claim to these wastes as surely as she's considering doing to the desert.
That Deimos doesn't immediately cast her a fool and laugh at the idea is all a continual reassurance. It might be wild to imagine, but she has held wildness in her hands plenty of times and molded it before. A practiced type, she will admit, but that, if anything, emboldens her to rise up to something new and test her mettle against it. Carefulness had gotten her here, with nothing but loss to show time and time again, until now it's naught but memory. "I think there is always something worthy to be found in the places that are hard won. A certain beauty, to the things that give warning." Not that beauty is high on her list of requirements, but the desert appeals to her in that way, and she can imagine the blooming spectacle he describes is one such splendor hidden among the hardship. Life builds itself into every niche, and it creates defenses to protect itself. What might the desert be like, if some of those layers of armor get peeled back? Something shiny, yet to be found, polished beneath the grit?
"Do you find it hard," she wonders quietly, more direct now than theoretical. "Getting people to thrive in Halo? You've many more years of practice there, but I know that land is harsh in its own way. I imagine they all were, once." Even Torchline, for its shining luxuries now, surely did not start out so amiable to citizenship. Some easier than others, she's sharp enough to notice that—here, for instance, seems like a miserable place to exist now matter how she squints at it to try and find something redeeming. She supposes every creature that already lives here though has taken a certain liking to it, and maybe one day some person would lay claim to these wastes as surely as she's considering doing to the desert.
Colt
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
