Nina
I was in my tower weaving nightmares
Twisting all my smiles into snarls
Twisting all my smiles into snarls
Spotting Erebos, Nina smiled at the boy before joining him on the box, hopping up and perching there in a rather undignified way that had certainly not been on her list of places to sit today, but what could she say? She had rather a soft spot for the youth who tried so hard and always had a kind word to offer. Besides, his enthusiasm was catching, and she couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face as he hooted and hollered for a passing skijoring team.
"I do not believe skijoring is for me," Nina told Erebos, her gaze on the participants with a certain level of respect. Perhaps she should have offered blessings from the First Flame to them. It looked, to her untrained eye, almost as if it was just as dangerous as a hunt.
But it was too late now, and the young Keeper turned her attention to Deimos, who seemed none the worse for wear despite what Nina could only assume was a ridiculous lack of sleep. As the Warden offered a pony to his son, she glanced around to make sure Ember wasn't getting itself into trouble. Fortunately, the little fire sprite had tucked itself into the snow nearby, enjoying melting the piled ice into slush beneath its flames. Turning back to the Ignatius family, Nina kicked her heels absently against the wooden crate, stopping as she realized how childish it probably looked. "What is the goal of this skijoring?" she asked then, hoping to distract from her momentary lapse of dignity.
"I do not believe skijoring is for me," Nina told Erebos, her gaze on the participants with a certain level of respect. Perhaps she should have offered blessings from the First Flame to them. It looked, to her untrained eye, almost as if it was just as dangerous as a hunt.
But it was too late now, and the young Keeper turned her attention to Deimos, who seemed none the worse for wear despite what Nina could only assume was a ridiculous lack of sleep. As the Warden offered a pony to his son, she glanced around to make sure Ember wasn't getting itself into trouble. Fortunately, the little fire sprite had tucked itself into the snow nearby, enjoying melting the piled ice into slush beneath its flames. Turning back to the Ignatius family, Nina kicked her heels absently against the wooden crate, stopping as she realized how childish it probably looked. "What is the goal of this skijoring?" she asked then, hoping to distract from her momentary lapse of dignity.
They say what doesn't kill you makes you aware
What happens if it becomes who you are?
What happens if it becomes who you are?
