Beauty over Wisdom- Just as beautiful as you are; It's so pitiful what you are.

Zafina · February 16, 2019, 02:04 PM

Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.

The pale moon-like lupine regarded her with an inquisition that was naturally meant to be answered in the first meet between a pair- in her determination to house herself, she must have forsaken the regular standards betwixt strangers. A wafting shuffle brought a hint of cinnamon and earthly upturned loam up as a perfume from the Witch, as she had dabbled in the herb and mixture before arriving. Her voice, soft and supple, yet echoed almost perplexingly from eons both before and after her time as a mortal.

“Enchantress,” she reflected in those mystic tones to the partial greeted speckled man. She would not reveal her last name to the male until she was sure he would take her in. Names had power, immensely so, and she would be damned should any mortal have any reign over her.

“I have nothing physical to offer you nor your home. Only words, stories, and magic of history for both past and prophecy of future.” Atleast she was honest, she committed with direct and unflinching in her knowledge-wealth. Should they accept such, then she would reward with her offerings. Should they deny, they had nothing truly to lose other than a Divine’s blessing.

Zafina could speak to them if the maelstrom of happenings beyond the sphere of this planet, how balls of ice and gases and magic which could come from their their courtship or their departure, the scalding heat and the incapacitating cold that was what lay beyond them. The Awakened kept the universe in her mind, and could tell it all, generations of eons, centuries of decades, or millennia. All of it could belong to this pack.

Should they welcome a Witch into their threshold.

Garnets almost glinted in her glee-
would she even dare say what transpired in the Unknown Regions? Could a mortal mind even comprehend the expanse of gravity, or the unending pull of the fringe of Existence, itself?
And how there were puppeteers behind it all?

But every sky will build my throne.