Safrin
Her anger is a thing of beauty by design. Far, far above the ocean, Safrin delights in her fury. She burns bright with it, imagining rags smouldering and pleas for salvation from starlit waters. Incandescent, blackholes spark into existence near her and then disappear just as quickly with silent snarls that echo out into the void.
"LUDO!" She sings brightly into the cosmos, her voice carrying towards the herald, whatever pocket of creation it might have squirrelled itself away in. That it would go behind her back, that it would interfere with her chosen, that it would act without telling her. Narcissism and vanity make her emotions swell with righteousness until she is as vast as any light-giving star.
"LUDO!" She sings brightly into the cosmos, her voice carrying towards the herald, whatever pocket of creation it might have squirrelled itself away in. That it would go behind her back, that it would interfere with her chosen, that it would act without telling her. Narcissism and vanity make her emotions swell with righteousness until she is as vast as any light-giving star.
