REXANNA
The moon shines high above, full and bright, the stars glimmering off in the distance – stars so different from Helovia, from Halyven, and yet Rexanna finds solace in the crumbling pieces of the Spire. Her gaze is soft toward the sky, turning the ring on her finger in a small amount of nonchalance as she watches and wonders, ponders curiously if they truly are the cause of the blight, and what that might mean for the future. Would they be banished? Ashamed? Paraded through the streets as some kind of repercussion?
She snorts as she creates a spark of light in her hand, the smallest firework she can manage, and she watches as it fizzles out. She wants to see them try.
Her thoughts are snatched from her the minute she hears the shriek, and for a moment she leans back on her hands in the brilliant moonlit glow, thinking nothing of it. She was sure she had seemed as rattled when she first arrived, only she had been far quieter about it – more cautious, more… wishing to be hidden rather than paraded. She didn’t blame anyone for that, how they reacted. It certainly was an experience of all things. And she lets her dark hair fall back along her shoulders in her short sleeve shirt, with a drooping neckline that reveals the brand she’s no longer self-conscious of.
In fact, in the cold she’s barely wearing anything of warmth. Yet the woman can’t feel it, thankfully.
It isn’t until she hears the rustle of the grass, the person who the Penumbra assumes has just arrived, on a warpath in her direction, and she smirks slightly when the words reach her ears. She’s still like a statue, not needing to breathe, and she keeps her face pointed toward the moon soaking up some residual warmth from the day. Still, she waits until the woman is closer, within hearing distance to her, before she says anything.
“You, my dear, are in Caido. This is the Spire.” She announces, not looking at the woman just yet, but extending a pale hand to her side toward the obsidian monolith, crushed and crumbled. Her head lowers from the sky, then, sapphire gaze glimmering in the light as she finally beholds the woman that has approached, and she stops dead still as recognition sits in. And her eyes widen in surprise – unsure if the woman will recognize her, but silently praying she does.
She snorts as she creates a spark of light in her hand, the smallest firework she can manage, and she watches as it fizzles out. She wants to see them try.
Her thoughts are snatched from her the minute she hears the shriek, and for a moment she leans back on her hands in the brilliant moonlit glow, thinking nothing of it. She was sure she had seemed as rattled when she first arrived, only she had been far quieter about it – more cautious, more… wishing to be hidden rather than paraded. She didn’t blame anyone for that, how they reacted. It certainly was an experience of all things. And she lets her dark hair fall back along her shoulders in her short sleeve shirt, with a drooping neckline that reveals the brand she’s no longer self-conscious of.
In fact, in the cold she’s barely wearing anything of warmth. Yet the woman can’t feel it, thankfully.
It isn’t until she hears the rustle of the grass, the person who the Penumbra assumes has just arrived, on a warpath in her direction, and she smirks slightly when the words reach her ears. She’s still like a statue, not needing to breathe, and she keeps her face pointed toward the moon soaking up some residual warmth from the day. Still, she waits until the woman is closer, within hearing distance to her, before she says anything.
“You, my dear, are in Caido. This is the Spire.” She announces, not looking at the woman just yet, but extending a pale hand to her side toward the obsidian monolith, crushed and crumbled. Her head lowers from the sky, then, sapphire gaze glimmering in the light as she finally beholds the woman that has approached, and she stops dead still as recognition sits in. And her eyes widen in surprise – unsure if the woman will recognize her, but silently praying she does.
until the lambs
have become
lions
