Totoka River Hold my hand, it's a long way down

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He speaks and his voice is like the rumble of thunder to her: commanding but not unpleasant. He speaks of their kind, grouping them together like they are similar. Perhaps, Thyri muses to herself, they are. Perhaps they are cut from the same cloth. He reveals things about himself as he speaks but with a terse tightening of her lips and a flick of her tail the sylph realizes these are true of her too. Weak can go beyond just the physical, she thinks. There are those that are intellectually weak, as well. Weak is subjective at best and to each it’s definition differs. He looms over her, his turn to stare down at her but despite their size difference Thyri does not submit to him. She holds strong, keeps her posture and meets his gaze. She is no one’s inferior. Not anymore. She watches as he turns from her and begins to walk away. She does not expect him to stop, yet he does and turns his head to view her from over his shoulder. The warrioress’ ears cup forth to catch his words as they fall from betwixt his lips, seemingly giving her the choice. Venture forth with him or go her own way. She remembers the ache of loneliness she has been feeling for some time and how she spurred and chased Ashton’s company away. Then again, essentially calling her a hot piece of ass was guaranteed to do that. Her teeth gnash at his use of the word cowardice. Cowardice. She is no coward and she dislikes how he twists it to his advantage. Perhaps he does not mean to and that is truly how he sees solitariness; regardless Thyri hates the word. She is no coward. “I am no coward.” She states decisively, her words confident and adamantine as she moves towards him. She knows little of him and he of her but she figures there will be plenty of time to become acquainted with one another, especially if they are to travel together. As she moves to his side she contemplates on which name she desires to give him and for some reason she cannot comprehend she feels the heavy weight of truth on her shoulders: she does not wish to take Skðdi’s role when around him. It would be far too exhausting, she thinks. “I am Thyri.” A name for a name.

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