Sleeping Dragon our backs tell stories no books have the spine to carry
warbringer
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Ooc — romanova
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#21
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Eske felt Freyja's nose push against her cheek in a silent greeting as she joined her silver sister's side. She wasn't sure why or when, though she suspected it was when they'd truly talked to one another, but she was beginning to lose her bitter feelings associated towards Freyja. It had been all in the name of rivalry and though Eske had certainly not lost her competitive edge she felt a stronger bond with Freyja than she had before. She had learned, somewhere along the line, that she couldn't compare herself to Freyja for they were not the same; and that Freyja's successes did not mean that Eske had failed. It had taken nearly six months to come to these realizations on her own but now that she had she found that she could love her sister and want her to succeed instead of feeling envy and wanting to see her fail.

The same could not be said to Thyri who sat away from them even as Hvitserk snuck in on the other side of Freyja. Eske offered him a gentle woof of greeting though she did not deign to stretch across Freyja to nudge him. Her blue-green gaze slid back to Thyri, watching her coldly, unable to help but feel that if she hadn't spoken with Freyja, if she hadn't came to realize how toxic her jealousy was to both Freyja and herself that she could easily be in Thyri's spot. Once upon a very short time ago, she was. She wondered if she could talk to her champagne dappled sister or if it would even make a difference. Would she even listen if Eske could get her alone?

Freyja's drew Eske's attention and thoughts off of Thyri when she spoke that they — the three of them — would eat together. Eske moved towards the elk and tore a chunk of meat from the corpse, pulling it away to a more secluded spot where she laid down, grasping the meat beneath a paw and drawing it nearer so she could eat without feeling crowded lest she get aggressive with any wolf who was unfortunate enough to venture a little too close to Eske's personal eating space for her liking.
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roangeda · green-lit

trigedasleng
— your hands are wet with the blood
of an empire. you lick it off.
Messages In This Thread
RE: our backs tell stories no books have the spine to carry - by RIP Blodreina - December 11, 2016, 06:26 AM