Wolf RPG

Full Version: God I’m so over always making you feel better
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For @Ingram and Maven only. Ingram may post first — Maven will follow after. 

Sanguinex lead the face-painted woman to where Basilica resided.

Their scent was growing faint, but it was still present in some form. A relief. 

Into the heart of the plateau they went, searching for he who was dreadfather.

Once found, the dagger slipped to the man's side, nodding in respect. Dreadfather, He first greeted before turning to the woman he had brought with him. This is Wanheda, or so she calls herself.
the deathbringer returns too late. the call rises over the treeline of the plateau, summoning ingram.

he readies to leave. his threadbones are bundled in a new rabbit fur — the old one having thinned from pious use — to escort toula back to akashingo and let the bones of destiny fall where they may.

threadbones are not carried with him, though, as he dutifully makes his way to where the deathbringer's call had came.

with him is a woman, cloaked in earthen colors.

wanheda; it twists something icy in ingram's stomach; drawing a quickly shuttered look of surprise from ingram who recognizes the term. commander of death. my mother was wanheda. speaks ingram, almost numbly; the first time in so very long that he has spoken of praimfaya. was it possible this woman carried her spirit?

if she was a true commander: it was possible.

which made ingram very weary and on edge.
Another man came. The white one's leader, she guessed.

He looked upon her, and she stepped closer. But what he said next surprised her.

Your mother, Wanheda? Mountain woman first in years. She hadn't heard of another calling themselves this in quite some time.

We travel to make home in mountain. Her and her miniature retinue. But perhaps it wouldn't be so after this.
feel free to skip him unless addressed!

What a coincidence that the two would have similarities. Sanguinex would have never guessed. But if this bettered their chances as surviving and growing once more, he wouldn't be the first to argue. Instead, he sat back and let the two talk, content to simply be on watch for this trio in case any other came upon them.
she was born in these wilds, praimfaya's stories, despite their violent differences and the fact that ingram had committed matricide, linger in ingram's memory. in his blood and bones.

speaking of her at length drudges with it that familiar hatred that burns frigidly now.

so, gratefully, he allows the shift to her purpose here.

deathbringer had done well, but for ingram it was too late. he was committed to seeing the princess of the redserpent home and if they had a place for him: seeking a home there as well.

those who wish to join you may go, basilica was fallen and ingram: a king with a splintered, broken crown. he could and would not speak for what little of the masses was left. to the deathbringer, seaglass gaze cuts. i am escorting the princess home, he does not speak her name out of a strange and sudden bubbling want to protect her.

where i will stay if akashingo allows it.

the stranger that the deathbringer has brought does not linger long after that. ingram watches her go, offers the deathbringer a parting shoulder bump before he heads towards the altars.