what the f

Akira · May 19, 2019, 08:28 PM

It is already too late to swim when the water reaches your lips.

It seemed today, the Ancestors would not have Velen wait long, as Akira edged around the Bay and inked the beachen paradise in as much of her scent as she could, a course silken sway of lotus blossoms and sealine feathers, of urea and disciplined elegance. The newly crowned Empress would not allow another contender to ruin her home, and her intent to find Ford was supreme over anything else this bay would dare throw at her. Yes she would lead- but her heart roamed to latch beside her Emperor's, and to rule beside him, not in his place. Yet until the Swan found her Alpha, she would not displease his name with a weak ruling. This Bay would knowdiscipline, and it would know it very soon.

Her body was still in repair after her near fatal plummet into the waters, her assumed final launch into the tyrant she hadn't known the law of, Firefly, within the frigid waters of the Sea of Stavanger. Akira felt her chest still tight, but those within this pack would know not of her plights. They would only know of her as Empress, she whom had pulled their pipes free of the fangs of Ford's upsurper. Sapphire eyes latched keenly to the massive wolf whom dwared her with indescript ease. Ye she stood still now, a monolith to the bashing sea behind her, and appeared to have the spirit to take even him down, as she had been swallowed by the sea,
and won.

Saltine wind corraled over her unusual coat of ivory hue, washing clear over the cape she wore with pride which shimmered an indefinable deep seadepth blue gleam. It trailed delish over her spine and her blueblack tipped auds caught the sounds as the deeply burned male neared her. Burned not in fire, but embraced in it's most heated past it seemed, as the deep citrine taste roved crisp yet simmeringly mellow over broad weight, only curtaining the ivory soul beneath the flask of heavy and deep brown fire. Muscles splintered the dangerous image into something showing this man was gifted through genetics, and would make a fine warrior should he too have the discipline and mindset of Ford.
A mystery she still could not piece together.

Her chin tilted high, banner lifting into a splash of height while she flagged this man down in her siren stare. "Hail." her voice was through the world between them, a chime of wind on the flat base of a blade- lethal in potential, yet halting in intent. For now.

She would understand this male who searched for her so deliberately, and should she need to put him down too, she would drag him into the sea with Firefly, as well.

Not all birds have been taught to fly. Some simply fall until they either learn, or perish.