Boartusk Heights October skies

Maybe a @Paloma? 

The fledgeling's limbs had begun to refine themselves into proper, wolfish proportions by now; a far cry from the stubby-legged, mewling balls they had started out as. Nymphora itched to put herself to use, as wandering within palace hallways and lounging on the cliffs, knocking rocks onto the heads of the servents below had long since become mundane activities. 

Today, she found herself staring at the forests beyond their little enclave. From a perfect vantage, she looked over the rolling valleys and sprawlings woods, her paws flexed restlessly, nails scraped against the rock. She'd find the handmaiden as she walked by, and yip her bossy little inquiry, demanding of her attention before she was off to labour under another's command. 

When can we go out of the palace?

A little cousin (though this information was never shared by Paloma and only at @Reyna and @Nivis to divulge) yips at her, pausing her body to stand at immediate attention. One of their beautiful little princesses. Of course, the less lovely of her two sisters, who had captured more of their mother's perfection. Of course, Paloma would never dare utter a word of this to any living soul. 

That is for your mother to decide. Who was, of course, the Matriarca of all. Paloma had little say in anything or at least, how most might think from an outside perspective. The help tended to know all and were often easier to get away with things while being so often overlooked. 

Truth to be told, the children would have likely had a much further leash by now had they more sentry at their disposal that could keep watch over them.

Well why can we not go now? Nymphora pressed the issue further, undeterred by the regurgitation of a fact she knew well. Mother decided everything. A scowl still pressed itself to the girls features and her speckled tail thrashed as it echoed her upset; her entitlement could do a great many things in the future, but as of now, it served her very little and frustrated her even more. 

What could be out there that's so important that it occupied nearly all of father's time?

The dangers of the world were lost on her. The extent of the injustices she'd had to face were largely simple spats with her siblings. She believed her teeth were the solution to every problem she came upon; and did not lack for confidence. She fancied herself.. well..

Untouchable. After all, who would dare?

She stared down the maid. Reducing her in her mind. Just itching to bark out a command, like mother.

And that is for your mother to tell. Paloma played game and played it well. One moment she could say she knew everything that went around these halls and in the next breath state "I'm but a servant, what do I know?" One paw she might think herself the backbone, holding everything together, yet the next... ah, alas, she was but just a servant! 

Her grin is large now, toothy and even a bit unsettling, as though she had some screw loose. Of course, she did. Surely she had already got the princess in a tiffy. Then, finally, she answered a bit more directly and honestly. Our empire is still very young, pichón And small, obviously so. And you still so young with need of much protection. Whether the girl admitted it or not. Its a great, big and frightening world out there, ready to eat a little princess right up! She said with a hard clicking of her jaws shut.

The frustration only grew further in the impatient princess. Round and round they could go. Maybe just yelling at the maid would make her feel better. 

I don't believe you. She huffs with a callous roll of rosy eyes, girlish venom of her tongue, and puffs out her pale chest fur. Why don't you just take me? I order you to. I'm a princess, I should know the land we own.. 

Her nails dragged across the stone, rage exercised somewhere else. Kept her from lashing out with more than just her words. 

It wasn't fair.

Pale lavender eyes met the pale peachiness of the princesses own as she was given a command to take the princess outside the palace. It was a stare down. The little Nym's nails racking the ground. Paloma's jaw clenching. 

Well alright, fine. If you insist. The woman finally then reeled her pale face back with a slight huff. She moved swift as she went down the halls then, hoping even that perhaps after a number of twists and (wrong) turns that she might loose the girl. 

Then, once out into the open spread of vale that made the palace grounds, Paloma turned around to face the cavern entrance and sat. There. We're out. Well, the little princess did not specify how out she wanted to be.

She kept up, though not by much; excitement brimming in the tips of her pawpads, to finally go beyond the walls of the palace; a secret tunnel, surely this was where the maid lead the two of them. 

And when they finally breached cave walls and crept out into the world below, Nymphora was met with the same clearing she stared into day in and day out. Did it entertain the maid to play her betters for fools? Nymphora brimmed with anger—herself, for falling for such a ruse, and this smug bitch, for daring to do it in the first place. Her expression darkened.

She did not think of repurcussion or of feelings or any other unimportant bullshit. She only acted, wheeling around and lashing out with teeth towards whatever skin she could get ahold of. It was her right regardless of her size, to put ants in their place. Unruly child, she did not care; she wanted to taste blood.