Fimbulvetr

Radames

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Andante & Iracebeth

Couple OTS


Private seal my heart and break my pride

#1

EVANDR



Gone. She was gone.

There wasn't any more denying it. Denial was the tool of a weak man, and Evandr refused to show an ounce of fragility. In the world of the ne'er-do-wells, castaways, criminals, and outcasts the smallest crack in one's composure essentially painted targets. 'Hey, lookit me!', it cried, 'I'm three good shoves from erupting!' Pinked nostrils did erupt but with a snort, one that tried to rip the very melancholy from the recesses of his mind and discard it. No... of all the Warden could never show weakness. While anyone was at the pickings for those who wish ill upon the populace, his position of false-kingship painted him a far more enticing bullseye. Take down the Warden and you could instill your own rule. And it was those kinds of filthy and scum Evandr kept from ruining the Oasis.

So when it became too much to bare, when the swelling mourning over the unknown fate of Aishe and his unborn child become more and more a reality, the amaranthine behemoth knew he had to take to the Wastes. It wouldn't be out of character for his slate and apricot hooves to crush the scorched sands beneath his hooves. Time and time again he patrolled the ravine, left the fate of the exiles at Frekr to the doings of the decent stallions and mares collected there. But this time it was not business that compelled his long, ground devouring strides today. While the sun beat upon his spine-riddled, making the khol of the group burn hot with such intensity he thought the puckered hide around them may sear, the beast of a male could only march to the sound of his own hooves.

Well... and the shifting, low moan of the sands beneath his feet as the wingless drake Zahhak followed suit. Although the monster had enough strength to overwhelm the Warden's consciousness, to wrangle and fight for whatever knowledge it was that he wished to see, the molten creature had displayed and incredible patience and respect for the piebald stallion. Zahhak bonded himself enough to the equine to keep him within telepathic sights, but no more. For it, Evandr was grateful.

Finally pebbles struck through the ground and rocky crag kissed his hooves more so than gritty sand. Evandr lifted his visage from it's haunched suspension so that his sapphire gaze swept along the cragged, broken canyon that tore the Slidr River Valley and Vetr Wasteland apart. It was an impressive thing. On that either swelled wide and deep, or inched all too close for Evandr's comfort. With wings it would be easy to cross, but no where besides the Point could your hooves carry (or leap) you to the other side. But as of current, the Warden didn't feel the desire to stop and take in the naturally painted lines in the gorge, or watch the cerulean and white rapids below. He just wanted to keep moving, keep striking flints to ground, and preoccupy himself with items other than the important things taken from him so abruptly. When they'd survived the sandstorm he thought everything over, that a normalcy would return to the monotonous day-to-day until the baby came.

Wouldn't he know it, he couldn't have been more wrong.


W C: 551
T A G: Ylva
M U S E: 3.5/5
O O C: ---

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

#2


and i'm faded away, you know,
i used to be on fire.
Amethyst gaze kept alert the further she ventured into the strange lands - she was alone now, she hadn't a clue of where her youngest was. They had been traveling together up until that wicked storm separated them. The knowledge of where she was was still not clear to her. The air felt lighter since she was no longer trapped with what she learned was called the Bifrost, but the environment she found herself in held their own trials in themselves. Ylva couldn't quite decide if being here was a blessing or a curse, for it most definitely took her mind off everything she was doing her damnedest to forget. Nares opened as she inhaled, getting a whiff of swampy air. She could feel the warmth of the sun beating down upon her hide every few strides, as the trees she passed seemed to block it as she passed. It was a roller-coaster of warmth and immediate cool. It was the warmer temperature that was giving her an edge, spending her entire life in frigid cold, it set her hormones off.

A sudden rush of cold water surrounding her front left foot, when she instinctively went to yank it up, she found it suctioned where it was. Ears pinned as she snapped her gaze downward, realizing she had been so occupied with her thoughts, it had seemed she located the source of the swamp stench. Upper lip curled in frustration, but she remained calm. Ylva took a moment to glance around her, she could feel the mud beginning to concrete around her leg, up to her knee. 'Danger... shouldn't stay here.' Her wolf uneasily spoke and it only annoyed her further. A dramatic roll of her violet eyes in response, No, I just wanted to stay for tea and crumpets. She hissed back, their conversation in the confinements of her own mind. "Shit, shit, shit." She grumbled, outstretching her wings at their span, she gathered her rear limbs under her, resting the tips of her wings on the soft ground on each side of her. Her right front limb was cramping and becoming numb, she had to act fast.

En, to, tre... She counted silently, upon 'tre' she began pushing against the Earth with all her might, the muscles bulged in her hindquarters, she began to rock her left limb back and forth. She had been just about to give up to rest, but she heard the suction give way and she jolted upward and then back. Jaw clenched, Ylva decided she no longer wanted to linger here, so with a few powerful beats of her behemoth wings to remove her from the soft ground. It wasn't long before she spotted firmer soil and she landed, knowing she couldn't fly any higher for the trees were too close together. The second her hooves hit solid terrain, she took off in a full out run, hoping to find a clearing big enough for her to take off. Her wings remained out, gliding with the wind, flapping here and there to give her an extra boost. Amethyst gaze kept sight of the tree lines, catching a small opening and her wings responded. It wasn't long after she was soaring in the skies, now looking down to where she had been stuck.

Continuing to head East, she saw acres and acres of more trees, vast woodland. It was lucky thing she had taken off when she had, otherwise she would've remained grounded. 'Systir, look...' A gravitational pull took hold of her head, forcing her eyes to look ahead at the horizon; it was there she saw a tabino blob of ivory and ebony, along with an even larger creature near him. A wicked smirk plastered her maw, however her wolf wasn't as pleased; a feeling of nervousness sprouted from her and took root in Ylva, much to her dismay. Another eye roll. Do you not see the difference to them, and us? Wings, my dear. She attempted to soothe her wolf, but could feel it hadn't been too effective. The she-wolf found herself circling the duo below thrice, knowing well he had to of seen her - if not her, then the shadow she cast. It was upon one of the first souls she had seen since entrance to... well, wherever she was.

The near unbearable to heat - to her, anyhow - was keeping her from landing. How could anyone stand this? But alas, her curiosity won her over, and she did her best to ignore the scorching sun. The once watery swamp mess that encased her leg, was now dry mud that had baked into her hair in clumps. She had spots here and there were mud had flung up and splattered her hide, but it didn't rile her. Ylva was never one to fess on her appearance being impeccable. Making her degrade into a cyclone-like movement, lowering herself further with each small circle, the she-wolf dug all four hooves deep into the sand, which turned to rock, as she made her landing. 'Run.' Sister Wolf was anxious, strangers were nothing good. Only pack was good. But neither of them have felt pack in a long, long time. Ylva ignored her, resting her gaze upon the larger male before her, making sure she kept a friendly stranger amount of distance. While cocky, she knew better. This wasn't her territory, none of it was.

"Hilsener, beasts." Her accent was thick, yet her words were clear. Eyes stared into his briefly, aching to show dominance but chose to look away, onto the wyvern. She looked back to the male several paces from her, quickly taking in his appearance. While he looked ebony prior, she saw the tint of amethyst beneath. He wore spikes, almost matching the wyvern accompanying him. She moved to his torso and belly, scars. It caused her to think of her own scars briefly. Realizing her wings were still held out, she fluttered them to shake any loose debris off, folding and tucked them tightly against her sides, hiding the most recent and worst of her scars. "You look like fine gentlemen," She paused for a dramatic moment, lacing her words with sarcasm - all in good fun, of course - "can you tell me where in the fuck I am?" Her violet eyes blinked at the male, knowing full well the wyvern wouldn't speak to her.  
now i'm melting from my wings.
Evandr / coding / image.
hover over words for translation!
Tag: @[Ylva]

Evandr Offline

The Warden

  • Gender: Stallion
  • Age & Season: 10 Summer ☀︎
  • Height: 20hh
  • Arcana: Geokinesis
  • Level: Apprentice
  • Lineage: Local
  • Species: Spiritborne
  • Posts: 54
  • Crystals:
  • Played By: Soupi

#3

EVANDR



The shadow wasn't difficult to overlook. On any other day, Evandr would have been easily present, easily accountable for every inch of surroundings. But today, his had found the burnt terra-cotta cracks and followed them along the ravine with a monotonous tone that spoke of nothing but aimlessness. Until the shadow. Zahhak audibly stirred, a deep puckering growl popping in the corner of his throat. His umber claws ripped through the dried sod, stopping, turning, assessing. Evandr had half the mind to gripe at the beast, to call him from whatever poor animal got caught in his cross hairs, but then the fluid slip of a gauzy shadow teased them with the briefest reprieve from the sun. His visage all but lurched upwards, audits snapping through the tangled mess of his obsidian threads (sun bleached, they were more a smoldering indigo), and squinted through the harsh desert glow.

There hadn't been a pegasus in the horde since that jilted regent of Ambrosius - if one called him even equine with his ravenesque features and clacking talons. Long had he been pardoned and there had been no Order messages preparing him for new arrivals. But what he saw was not the raven male, nor any other remotely familiar face. Rather, massive alexandrite wings commanded the sky, and they belonged to a stony mare. For a moment, it seemed she prepared to land, lowering her trajectory and scouting them out with a sharp, kunzite gaze. Surely she, like any other, couldn't resist a quick glance at the beast standing abreast the Warden. Evandr's brow only shadowed with a pinch when she circled, and sank further still when she landed some strides away. 'Pity for her...' Zahhak's telepathic bass resonated in the stallion's skull, and if wasn't actually shaking his grey matter he'd be surprised for it felt so, 'Not the placssse to get lossst...'. A crimson tongue slithered through the carapaces and sharp jaunts along his maw as the drake licked his maw, molten eyes studying the mare with a hungry passion. But the Warden didn't reply, especially aloud, and only offered the aura of disapproval to stifle Zahhak's zeal.

The woman before him was interesting. Beneath a cloak of dried, cracking mud was a pewter hide marred with scars from her cornets to her dorsal. Markings he didn't consider foreign but still unknown to him scratched into her nape in coal, and throws of plum locks undulated about her with fiery ends as the harsh desert zephyrs tore through the canyon. When she ruffled the large, sweeping appendages at her dorsal it offered an excuse to examine them. Their length was impressive, perhaps if only slightly enlarged could have carried Zahhak (who audibly snorted, finding comedy at the idea), and they too shown in the relentless sun with an amaranthine brilliance. There was a familiarity in her that had Evandr considering some of his own features; the similar royal coloring, the breadth of their height, and the scars that littered their bodies.

But she smelled of the enemy.

Swamp air clung to her, still not entirely burned away by the heat. Was she here to exile herself? Cast herself into the abyssal troughs of red and yellow with a guilty conscious too much to bear? The strength, dare he say challenge, to her almost rose gaze teased these considerations, but she offered yet another surprise. An alien greeting fell from her lips, thick with a strange drawl. Once the shadow drawn over his sapphire eyes twitches, before glancing her up and down again - quickly, an assessment. A new comer, a settler, a foreigner… She didn’t even understand the damnation she’d committed setting hoof to the sands. A snort billowed twixt his twin nares, visage shaking from side to side in a minute disbelief. Of all days? Of all of them? But Zahhak pushed back on the bubbling ire building in Evandr’s gut. Was this not a distraction?

Evandr hmphed, casting a sour cursory glance towards the drake at his breast. It turned back to him, the movements of his spine fluid and coiling not unlike a serpent, but ultimately followed the Warden’s gaze back to the stranger. “Where the fuck you are isn’t somewhere you want to be.” his tenor pronounced, the disenchantment with the surprise tour all to evident. “This is the Vetr Wasteland, home to the Horde of exiles cast out by the Houses in the Slidr River Valley.” His muzzle jutted forward, gesturing towards her, but meaning the ground she stood upon. “By setting hoof here, you’re exiling yourself.” Perhaps it was rude, but the Warden let his prickled introduction fester in a dramatic pause. Did he intend to keep her here? Send the drake after her should she show sign of protest? But Evandr released a bellowing sigh, gesturing towards a natural stone bridge some distance down the canyon. “Best cross now, new comer, or I’ll be forced to restrain you here.” Another pause, his eyes swept over over her again, “Or I suppose you could just fly back.”


W C: 849
T A G: Ylva
M U S E: 4/5
O O C: ---

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

Ylva Offline

Exile

  • Gender: Mare
  • Age & Season: 8 Winter ❅
  • Height: 18.2hh
  • Arcana: Teleportation
  • Level: Apprentice
  • Lineage: Settler
  • Species: Equine
  • Posts: 6
  • Crystals:
  • Played By: Boaz

#4


and i'm faded away, you know,
i used to be on fire.
It was quite evident something was happening here.

Taking a moment to observe his visage was enough to figure that out, amethyst optics glanced his hardened frame down, allowing the familiar scars to sink into her memory files. His spikes were of another story altogether. In her completely unbiased opinion, the man that stood before her was a hunk. A violent jolt spread throughout her heart, however she remained unscathed upon her rind. Her emotional turmoil wasn't for anyone's view, hardly even her own. The only tell-tale was a longer blink than usual and a clench of her jaw; Thanantos. That dreadful name had haunted for her nights that turned into months. Ylva had felt the need to wipe that nastiness from her tongue on the gritty sand beneath them, however she refrained. Knowing that would of been such a sight for a brute and his companion that knew nothing of her. Well, besides the fact that she had no clue where the fuck she was. An immediate roll of her orbs came in response to her thought, followed by a humorous snort.

Fuck, they have to think I'm insane. Now a very audible chuckle followed, "Ah jævlig." She muttered in between giggles, tossing her forelock out of her view, she attempted to gather herself.  'Who is who's body guard?' Sister Wolf mustered a quiet giggle, causing Ylva to grow an unruly smirk on her maw. Mulberry hued optics glided from the man to the beast, she held the gaze for long enough to irk anyone dominate. Causing trouble was always her specialty, she just entirely sure just how much damage she was doing here. Suppose she'd find out sooner or later, and oh she hoped for sooner. Jaw clenched in a pulsating rhythm, audits fully perked. It was when the man grunted, so to speak, she turned her attention back to him with a slight tilt of her head. With a brow cocked, she withdrew her skull scarcely at the voice that came from him. "Oi da," A light tingle began to spread, beginning near her groin. Left nare flared briefly as she struggled to keep her attention on what he was saying, not how. Unconsciously arching her nape, rolling the broad muscles within her shoulders as she took a step, or two, closer to the duo.

She made a point to take notes on his words, knowing it would be smart of her to sponge off his knowledge that he shared. At the mention of where she was, Vetr Wasteland, a brief glance was taken at her surroundings, not allowing her right audit to leave man nor beast. To always be on guard, that was the life of a wanderer. She was sure he know that all to well himself. Exiles? She questioned as she furrowed her brows, rounding her optics back upon him. Slidr River Valley. Must have been where she came from? But then a mention of Houses. Where in the world was she? It was much to take in, but it was his next choice of words that caught her attention. A flash of daring appeared within her gaze, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of her maw. "My my, freshly arrived and already finding myself into trouble." She cooed, making a 'tsk tsk' sound with her tongue afterward, but it was then he spoke again. 'Systir, maybe we should go.' The words fell upon deaf ears, however. Ylva was no longer listening, her gaze was locked on stranger before her.

A ruffle of her lilac hued wings, she dared to take steps closer to him, she could smell the heat burnt sand upon his flesh. Almost sulfur like, musky. She inhaled deeply, allowing his scent to permanently embed itself in her files. The heathen breathed, she was within inches of brushing against his left shoulder, keeping half of her senses on the beast he had as a companion. Knowing that one wrong move and she'd be in a fight for her life, she wasn't daft. While they held noticeable height differences, her lavender optics beamed into his own, holding his stare. "Don't threaten me with a good time," Her tones were a murmur. With that she took a side step, continuing with her stride passed his hardened body, notably brushing her left hip against the shoulder she had previously hovered near. Pausing, she glanced backward, "Make it a promise." She winked, giving a flick of her tail. "Either that, or - " She gave a small shrug, "I'll wander the Wasteland as a free woman." Ylva teased, allowing a smirk to develop. She literally had nothing to lose. Regardless of her hatred of the heat, she'd sacrifice her own comfort for a little fun.

Especially with him
now i'm melting from my wings.
Evandr / coding / image.
hover over words for translation!
Tag: @[Ylva]

Evandr Offline

The Warden

  • Gender: Stallion
  • Age & Season: 10 Summer ☀︎
  • Height: 20hh
  • Arcana: Geokinesis
  • Level: Apprentice
  • Lineage: Local
  • Species: Spiritborne
  • Posts: 54
  • Crystals:
  • Played By: Soupi

#5

EVANDR



The woman had no fear, that was for certain. Unfortunately, it was Evandr's personal opinion (and what had been demonstrated to him since he was birthed in this burnt, hellish landscape) that a healthy sense of fear kept one alive and away from unnecessary turmoil. But this nameless foreigner showcased only bravado and a carelessness for her self preservation. As she shifted before him, his muzzle shook ever-so-slightly... so minutely, one would have to have been studying him to notice. A shame. She didn't realize the shit storm she was playing with.

And he wasn't in the mood for games.

and where did that fearlessness steer her? Towards him, inching and eager to get close. If Evandr wasn't mistaken, desire wafted from her aura in pungent waves the closer she came, permeating the putrid stench of the swamplands. He challenged her own stare the closer she came, keeping his sapphire orbits locked upon hers as she swaggered nearer. Don't do it. he warned her silently. The skin along his dorsal prickled with anticipation: but it wasn't the genre she was exuding. With every step she closed distance between them and it amplified the pungent odor of the dried mud that littered her form. Still he matched her daring gaze and Evandr could only think of one thing: Semiramis. The snake-like femme who'd spat poisonous words at him, challenged his leadership, then took to the West on an escapade of her own doing. Vividly he recalled sinking his vice grip around her nape and man handling her through the muddied forest as she forced a chase; how much he loathed being there, how much she acted like a Valley Dweller despite smelling of Vetr, how easy it had been to drag her back.

For a moment his eyes were glassy - he was seeing Ylva but also through her, to another time or dimension. Yes... he'd dragged Semiramis back. It was his duty as the Warden. Protect the exiles and uphold his responsibilities as the ambassador to the Houses. If he were to let the exiles roam freely in the West? His rule would be in shambles... wouldn't it? He snorted away the thoughts as quickly as they were conjuring (the Tygggr sovereign questioning the traditions and why Evandr followed them, the standoffish mistrust from the obsidian Ambrosius king, and the avoidance of the Valley denizens while he searched for his escapee). The glassy texture faded from Evandr's eyes, the whole ordeal whirring in his mind in a moment just as the amaranthine and stone pegasus mare was at his shoulder. She lingered close, too close, and he found himself repeating his quiet warning. Don't do it.

But she took the leap of faith. She wanted to test him, see just how willing he was to back up his threat. As she collided her hip to his shoulder Evandr snapped his visage and gaze away from her. It burned into the terra cotta soil as the temperature of his blood boiled. She was already so much like them... so much like the Westerners. He had wanted to help her, to show that the exiles weren't some band of ne'er-do-wells that only destroyed. He wanted to give her a choice as a foreigner, to retcon the choices she'd unknowingly made. But it was too late.

Or was it?

"So arrogant... just like the rest of them." he growled. Besides him, Zahhak stirred. The Warden was building to something, and the lid on wasn't going to be able to contain the festering within him no matter how moral Evandr tried to be. Still the plum piebald male kept his back to the pegasus, kept his icy gaze forward. "I wanted to give you a chance, stranger. I did..." Finally he turned to her, the skirt of feathering around his hooves shaking with every step he took - the sod beneath his hooves cracked with a heavy thud as he tried to release some of the storm within upon the grounds. At his hidden hooves, grains of sand flicked, toppling over one another, spinning around the circumference of his pistons - an unrestrained arcana bubbling to the surface. He stared at her back, and he considered how lucky she was. If it had been Saren, she would have been taken both in freedom and body. But Evandr wasn't Saren (and where others may have felt warmth in their stomaches he felt an emptiness that was hallow and cold). Zahhak took a step forward, dual claws lacerating the baked dirt. His visage snaked down, molten eyes honed upon the pegasus mare with an intensity that tickled upon the fanciful idea his gaze would burst her to flame. "I tried." he said with an absent nod, more to himself than to her. "As Warden of these Wastelands, proxy of the Houses authority in the East, I am offering you only one, final out, new comer." Evandr could audibly hear the tension coil in Zahhak's muscles, the drake's visage lowering further, a guttural growl rumbling in his throat.

How fun, Warden..." Was all Zahhak said to fill the tense silence that built between the trio. Evandr didn't respond. Just stared at the scarred woman who had reminded him so much of himself - and how different up bringings can make a person. "Return to the Valley, if you can outrun the dragon, and you will be free." There was no other warning, no other finite start to the chase. The beast lurched forward, it's ear piercing cry erupting from it's lips as the tautness of his muscles loosened with the release of Evandr's telepathic hold. Jaws ripped asunder, showcasing the deep purple of his gums and throat, the yellow of his massive teeth. And as quickly as they fell upon her, as did a sweeping clawed hand.

No. There was no other warning.


W C: 977
T A G: Ylva
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: F A C K

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

Ylva Offline

Exile

  • Gender: Mare
  • Age & Season: 8 Winter ❅
  • Height: 18.2hh
  • Arcana: Teleportation
  • Level: Apprentice
  • Lineage: Settler
  • Species: Equine
  • Posts: 6
  • Crystals:
  • Played By: Boaz

#6

and i'm faded away, you know,
i used to be on fire.
The question going through your mind is probably somewhere along the lines, 'Oh no.. Ylva what are you doing? Because that sounds about right. In truth, the hardened shield-maiden in fact wasn't sure of what she was doing, not even a little bit. The warrior was lost and trying to find her way back to herself. The past year has most certainly broke her nearly in half. In just a year, she had lost every single thing she had worked so incredibly hard for; it was ripped away from her by the hands of her now deceased brother.

An Empress of the bone chilling mountains, close companion to their deity, Shishira, a complete master of her magic. Her fond Jarl, Thanantos. Her family. Everything. One single moment had been all it took for it to come crashing down. A once very powerful female, now a broken lost soul trying to find her way again. Not that Ylva would allow anyone to figure out just how damaged she was, as far as everyone else went, she revealed nothing. She wouldn't let the darkness escape her, depression was weak. She could not be weak, it was forbidden. Weakness meant sure death in her home tribe, for the main reasoning of holding everyone else down. It was unacceptable. And that was exactly what she was, she'd never admit it to herself.

It was within poking this metaphorical 'bear' that she teased death itself.

Maybe this man and his creature would in fact be the end of her, that's what she wanted... right? What other maddening reason could she have to provoke the impressive duo? For that adrenaline rush... to prove herself there was a reason worth surviving? It was not that she was dense; in pushing his buttons, she knew exactly what she was doing. If it happened to swing in her favor of him playing into her little seductive charade, then by all means. However that scenario was unlikely, he didn't seem like the upbeat, flirty type anyhow.

Shame, really.

An enticing glare with dare shimmering within her lilac hued optics continued on his rump, noting that he was not turning around to face her after she had brushed her hip against his broad shoulder. She could feel a shift in the air, she fought back a wicked grin, the nerves pulsating within her limbs. Audits stood at the ready, optics darted to the creature for brief seconds before returning to the piebald male. His back still toward her. She listened with anticipation; knowing, just by his reaction or lack of so far, the ladder of her thoughts was definitely not happening. But that word - that one fucking word. Arrogant. That was enough to ignite her own blood. Jaw clenched, however she remained still otherwise. She could feel Sister Wolf vibrating, she was boiling within her; "Jævling kuk. Challenge." The seething words ripped through her entire body, causing her muscles to tense. Her wolf form was scratching as if tearing open her insides. She wanted out, she wanted out right that second. She had been tempted to transform, let her wolf take over, but no. She wasn't going to go that way. Lips began to curl, showing her jaded, blood stained teeth.

She had been so focused on keeping her wolf on lock down, Ylva had only caught the a few words of the man's 'speech'. Warden. Oh so she was addressing the big man himself this entire time, how perfect. "only one, final out, new comer." Her nares twitched, her body held tense, yet it held. Hooves had made divots in the dry, cracking sand. Amethyst optics had shifted from the Warden to his dragon, watching as he honed himself on her. She knew what was coming next, with the next words that released from the male's lips, Ylva didn't even glance at him.

Heart slammed in her chest, legs coiled. And just like a beautifully orchestrated dance; the roan woman leapt sideways, narrowly escaping the bat of the beast's dual claws. The haunting sound of them slicing through air reached her audits, her mane flew wildly around her. Wings sprung outward mid-leap. She landed two paces from where she had once stood, she spared a second to stare into the gaze of the Warden. Only a wicked smile laid upon her maw for a microsecond before whipping back to stare into the crazed eyes of the dragon that was ripping after her like lightning. It was all happening so quickly, but it felt like slow motion for Ylva.

Daggers pounded upon the hard ground, she could hear cracking of the sand as she went, muscles rippled, her coat drenched in sweat. Hair ripped behind her, audits swiveled to and fro, she could hear the dragon; very hot on her tail. With all the strength she had, she jumped from the ground and allowed her wings to take her airborne. She knew better, even a slight look down could cost her drastically; she waited until she knew she was high enough before she circled back. She soared through the air, back to the Warden - would she land? No. While Ylva wished for death, she didn't wish to go that easily. Or that stupidly, either. "I have lived a thousand years worth of bloodshed and terror, you'll have to do better than that, Warden!" She howled as a breeze came in, picking up loose debris and sand. She watched as the brim rose and blew against the man. What the woman hadn't realized quite yet was the dragon didn't miss, not entirely anyhow. He had managed to sink one of his claws deep into the back of her rump, the upper part of her left thigh. Her crimson life force was oozing down the leg with a quickness to it.

Blurry vision. She felt faint. Weak. Lids fluttered for a moment.

No. The voice denied. No, no, no! Wings beat once, twice, before beginning to falter. At that moment, Ylva knew she was going down; out of the corner of her gaze, she saw the blood that now stained her left rear limb. You could barely see the ivory hue anymore.

Darkness.

Unconscious, mid-air, although thankfully she had began to descend, her wings instinctively wrapped around her frame to act as a cushion. Just as she had done when she crash landed in the Bifrost. And once more, the scarred woman clattering down to the hardened, dry sand. A dust cloud arose around her as she landed. The sudden, painful contact with the ground stirred her, lids fluttered as she grunted. She assessed herself, then realizing what had happened - Fuck. Glancing down, she saw sand. She was still within the Wastelands - which meant... she didn't bare to look. She had spoken far too soon. That brat of a dragon must of clipped her. Ylva could feel a dampness near her rear, but she didn't dare move.

As she was a hunter, she recalled often being the hunted. Moving prey was ten times more likely to trigger the predator. Ylva kept herself still.

But alas, the wolf in her wasn't about to let her lay there and accept her fate. Her will pushed Ylva to her feet, however the winged woman stumbled as she attempted to get her feet under her. That dampness she had felt prior, was indeed her own blood. Thankfully now, it was beginning to clot, but far too slowly in her opinion. She had lost a lot of blood in that window. She could feel the unsure feeling of her limbs, flying was most definitely not an option. The Warden had been correct; Ylva had been arrogant on this particular day. The very thought caused her to chuckle. "Apparently my arrogant ways have gotten the best of me." She breathed, her head hung slightly, too fatigued to hold it naturally. She was having a war within herself; she was ready for her days to be over yet the other half wished to continue to fight.

In the end, she supposed, it was the Warden's decision. She'd keep true to her ancestors regardless and wouldn't go down without some sort of protest. "Go on then, finish me off." Her voice was weak, but her words were strong. "You have a duty, to wheres I have honor to go out fighting."
now i'm melting from my wings.
Evandr / CODING
hover over words for translation!
Tag: @[Ylva]