From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
The task of pulling himself out of his own head took more work than he thought it would. He did not notice the looming figure in the distance at first. When it finally caught his eye it was just before the bellow it raised toward him. The reindeer stopped and lifted his crowned head toward the moose. His nostrils flared as he scented the air, his large ears swiveling forward as the creature bellowed out for him. He had never seen a moose out on the tundra here. He knew the creatures to like forests of high pine and places where rivers did not freeze solid. The bellow, however, and the luxere at its heels, solidified what Noah's mind tried to tell him: Chulane.
If his reindeer lips could curl into a smile, they would have. Cloven hooves carried him in a swift trot towards the other attuned, his pleasant mood instantly shifting across the bond and moving towards Chulane in shimmering waves. While he did not know the man well--yet--he still trusted him and appreciated his company. His work for Halo had not gone unnoticed by the natural, and Noah was so thankful for the efforts. It helped keep the people he cared about alive while he was gone. 'Chuy,' He finally greeted the other deer-like attuned as he approached. He couldn't help but let his eyes roll over the massive, hefty frame the other now carried himself in. 'This is a good shift.'
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?