Dragoncrest Cliffs oh, to sleep until i am whole again,
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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half awake lame writing here forgive me @Blodreina
Setting week of 12/31-1/5, morning

It was common knowledge that if, upon waking, your eyes were a bit crusted, your vision was a bit blurry, and your entire body felt utterly relaxed, then you’d slept damn well. The sort of sleep where you could rouse right up with an easy, languid mind; where it was nearly impossible to end up tripping over yourself.

And whether it was the poppy seeds, the exhaustion from all the traveling catching up to her, or simply having time in the past few weeks to relax—she’d been able to. Yet, the tousled look of slumber was still upon her; prominent in watery, half-awakened eyes. Sleep still settled in her scent, and lurked about in her muscles, in a coaxing sort of way.

But the feeling of having actually slumbered well... In the end, she luxuriously stretched her way out of her hollowed sequoia, taking her time on each muscle group. Drowsily noting she should find a warmer dwelling soon, she made her way to the lake. Or, at least, the safest route she could remember in her sleepy haze, with morning light to guide her.

​After that, she would take herself to the cliffs, as had become habitual in her time here. Aure simply hoped she wouldn’t pitch over the crags to have something other than sleep meet her.
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hush. it was a fine post. <3 also idk what all this rumination/sentimentality blodriena's doing/having is for. *squints @ her*

blodreina's always been an early riser — any part of her day spent over-sleeping is wasted time as far as she's concerned. the cliffs have always been something that blodreina both found fascinating and intimidating. she's never personally been afraid of falling over the edge but it's common knowledge that she doesn't ever venture too close. just in case. not that there hadn't been a bought of depression that had gripped her and that she hadn't considered it when kendra had died. those had been dark hours and even now, a year or so later, blodreina still misses her. there is still a hole in the drakru's heart that kendra's death had left in it's wake. falling in love with her'd been fast but it'd been hard and blodreina doesn't think she will ever not miss her in some capacity. whether it be absently as it is majority of the time or sentimental as it is now, all the sudden.

it does not fall out of the gona's knowledge what season is upon them and though she had been fortunate last season to avoid going into estruses despite being old enough she has a sinking feeling that she cannot avoid it forever.

yikes.

for now, realizing that she is not alone — the pale stranger draws her eye the moment she draws into view — blodreina casts aside her rumination in favor of the present. the pale woman is unfamiliar to her — and it is only the smell of drakru on her that smothers blodreina's natural hostility towards strangers. hei. blodreina greets her, figuring that the trigedasleng greeting is close enough to it's common equivalent that it is not misplaced nor misunderstood.
roangeda · green-lit

trigedasleng
— your hands are wet with the blood
of an empire. you lick it off.
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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"Hello," the porcelain kru pipped in a rather... sprightly manner. Seeing another of muted sorrel, she rose from where she'd settled, and promptly plopped down next to the she-wolf who most certainly might ruin her face further for it. In her dopy indolent state, she had no pretenses - more than usual - as to what personal space meant; if she acted this way in Rhaesuial... she didn't want to think about what would happen if she acted this way in Rhaesuial.

Instead, she blurted, "Di-mi-ne-aţă", enunciating each syllable with teeth pressed into the tongue, like a whelp trying out a new word. "M-morning, I mean." Thoughtless as to how this was making her seem, a very rare, melted giggle whirled from her, like snow on sunflakes. Giving the other kru no choice but to listen, she went on, "Or m-maybe not. I am so l-light that ze winds could pick me up. It could it wheneveer it wantings to."

"But it doesn'ts," she griped, condescending to speak in childish, bellyaching pouts, before turning to gawk openly, sleepily into the Blood Queen's face that'd endured so much. Having to crane her neck to look up into the clearer eyes of so many kru. "You know why it does not pick me up?"
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the pale sylph returns blodreina's greeting in common tongue and then to the gona's utter bewilderment rises and plops down next to her as if they are old friends. blodreina's brow furrows at the ease at which the sylph speaks to her but oddly it is not hostility or aggression. just ...bewilderment. curiosity. blodreina doesn't give off the friendliest of vibes — hadn't even before her kill marks and the claw marks left by shardik upon her flesh. the woman appears almost doe-eyed if not still struck by the remaining vestiges of slumber.

it is still morning. blodreina supplies helpfully, an amused noise lingering in the back of her throat. is that so? she humors the pale woman loftily in regards to being light enough for the wind to lift her. a statement of facts is followed by a question and for a moment the gona processes it, turning sea-glass colored gaze to the churning view of the sea far beneath the cliffs. if you are light enough for it to carry you away ...then i don't know why it does not. blodreina'd never been good at riddles and to her this certainly feels like a riddle.

you are new to drageda, yes? she attempts to steer control of the conversation now, sea-glass colored gaze studying the sylph. it's a rhetorical question. blodreina knows she's new ...or at the very least she wasn't here when blodreina left with heda for the war. i am blodreina. though the drakru'd never been the most sociable of her siblings but she's been working on it. her brief spell as fleimkepa had helped steer her in a right direction but if 'constant work in progress' didn't correctly capture blodreina than nothing else would.
roangeda · green-lit

trigedasleng
— your hands are wet with the blood
of an empire. you lick it off.
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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A vigorous nodding followed the 'Is that so?', and at it, she stretched her neck as far as it would go not much lmao and squinted in a way that she truly believed might be intimidating. The slur that only Vercingetorix had become victim to (until now) had returned, it seems. "Because I would kill it. I would kill it, you understand m-me? I would maim ze wind, before it got a chances. Besides," she huffed, drawing away and glowering at the waves far below. "It would never take you away. It never takes gloroious wolves away. Only little tiny icicle, like me."

Amongst her drowsy plight, her ears perked at the name loftily given, and tipped her head sharply at it. It seemed the inquiry of being in Drageda had gone right through her, for her expression had now fallen into vivid focus. "'Blod'... blood? 'Reina'... regina?" Piecing the Trigedasleng, for once, wasn't too difficult, and she perked up with a hushed, exultant peal of, "A-ah! Blood-queen!"

"How marvelous that is! Absolutely spellbinding! I cannot imagine what you must have gone through to acquire a name such as that. You must tell me sometime, I adore good intrigues! Anyone who has took arms against you must chide their children into sleep, with a name like that," 
she prattled on, her words admiration personified, but muted in tone, and her eyes were full of lethargic regard.  "It is perfectly singular!"

The pale female, herself, had never been too social to begin with; but perhaps staying with the other Drakru had begun to give her cause to flourish. No, it wasn't as peaceful as she might've hoped for... but with what she had endured, she had learned a long time ago to appreciate conflict in life. It, too, kept her grounded; thriving, in a way. "I am Aure," she warbled, continuing to gaze in fascination,  "da, I am new to Drageda. Being here still comes as a surprise to me."
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it never takes glorious wolves like you away. oh, how eske was flattered while struggling to be humble. she'd never been terribly arrogant — only as confident as her skill allowed her to be. how do you know i'm glorious? she is just gona. just a warrior. did fighting wars and shedding blood and snuffing out lives count as being glorious? before she can spend too much time contemplating it she turns her attention back to the words that the pale sylph speaks. who told you that being a, ah, tiny icicle as you put it, means you aren't glorious? blodreina asks her with a quirk of her brow.

good, good. blodreina replies with a encouraging nod of her head as the pale woman deciphers trigedasleng and translates it into common tongue. and blodreina cannot help but absolutely be flattered as the pale woman gushes over her name. the truth wasn't half as marvelous as aure no doubt imagines it to be. it's not half as exciting or magical as you'd like it to be, i'm afraid. one of my younger sisters helped to clean me up after the war and started calling me blodreina as a joke. granted, aure's ideas of it being a bedtime story to get children to obey their tired parents sounded so much cooler.

this, blodreina thinks, is probably why re-tellings of battle make it sound far more intriguing than it actually was. the truth tended to damper one's imagination. aure, blodreina tests the pale woman's name out on her tongue once it is offered to her, letting it linger playfully in the air between them. it fits you. blodreina does not know what it means but she likes the way it sounds and somehow she's left with the feeling that it sounds good paired with the pale sylph beside her.

the last sentence catches the gona's attention and she offers a bird-like cant of her head. how does it surprise you? a partially confused and partially amused churr of laughter comes from blodreina's lips as she regards the pale woman in full, with unfettered curiosity.
roangeda · green-lit

trigedasleng
— your hands are wet with the blood
of an empire. you lick it off.
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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#7
”Well, you can easily take your enemies down, I bet. It’s so... frustrating to be a step of your enemy, when you don’t know what is going to happen.” She gave a slight, exasperated toss of her head. ”Ze most I can do is be an ankle-biter to my foes, and how that I can hold on for as long as I can.”

Aure listened to the little origin of the epithet with rapt attention; well, as much as she could in her lethargic state. To herself, at least, the birthplace of the nickname was still intriguing—and amusing. The bone-light kru told the Blood Queen exactly that, too, and then perked up when the gona mentioned how befitting she was of her name. 

”Your name suits you, too!” she trilled impishly. With that, she rose to her paws, and made to turn; but one overstepped the other and she lurched sideways with a yip. Scrawny hip bumping into Blodreina’s lean flank, and Aure slurred some inchoherent apology.

Fluffing herself up, she turned back to the war-maid, ”Well, I’ve never been to ze sea; I never thought I would discover Drageda. I never thought ze shores would become my new home.” Her voice a bit muffled as she tended to a stray clump of fur, ”I pride myself in being adaptable, yet,I am... still trying to find love for it, ze sea. And for ze people, I suppose. My whole life has been hinters and gorges and mountains.”
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blodreina's expression becomes contemplative as she listens to the pale sylph's words. i could teach you how to watch and anticipate your enemy's moves, she offers and adds, if you want. it wasn't an obligation but it sounded to blodreina like she wasn't entirely satisfied being an 'ankle-biter' as she said it ( blodreina had to fight the laugh she felt bubbling in her throat ). anyone can be a warrior. my mother is small like you and she's a great fighter. although, often times blodreina forgot the slyph-like stature of gyda. what she lacked in size she made up for in presence. a trait that blodreina wished she'd inherited ...there was a feral elegance to gyda that she could never imitate. blodreina compensated for it with aggression.

blodreina lets out a small noise of surprise when the pale woman rises, lets out a yip and her hip is bumping into blodreina's flank. the pale woman slurs something and blodreina thinks it's an apology but can't actually make out coherent words. nevertheless she lets out a low chuckle. it's ok. she assures her. if it wasn't, blodreina'd have let it be known. just ...be careful you don't hurt yourself. it was a stumble she'd expect from a pup and not an adult but ...blodreina shrugs it off as perhaps the pale sylph is just uncoordinated until she's fully woken up.

the sea was a change for me to. i was born and grew up on a mountain called sleeping dragon, south of here a ways. blodreina tells aure, gesturing in it's general direction with her muzzle. we had to evacuate when it started erupting. it's not so much about where we are for me, i guess. we could live at the bottom of a pit and i'd still be at home as long as i'm with drakru. blodreina isn't the type to form attachments per say ...but she cares for heda — as a mentor, as her commander — and she cares for drakru. they are her people ( wolves? ). specific attachments aside from her parents and heda are harder for her since kendra's death and in a rare plot twist she feels emotion rise, unbidden, like a lump in her throat.

this sentimentality crap is awful, she deduces to herself bitterly. she hasn't even gotten to the worst part of her heat ( because she assumes thats what all this emotional turmoil going on inside her is ) yet and she already h a t e s it. what i'm trying to say, blodreina adds realizing she'd never actually gotten to her point. is that you just gotta find your people. once you do everything else will fall into place.
roangeda · green-lit

trigedasleng
— your hands are wet with the blood
of an empire. you lick it off.
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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super rambly reply im sorry, in a lot of pain out of nowhere today ;;

Aure had fallen quiet, letting Blodreina have her way with words. She nodded towards the end, gaze following the gesture towards the south, ”Yes. I agree with that idea, too. Before, I would wander from place to place, never staying for long—searching for my brother,” she let slip, unnoticed, ”or simply not feeling drawn to becoming kindred with others. But... although ze coast is unfamiliar to me... I have begun to feel...” Her pale mouth thinned, twisted, unable to find the words.

”When ze sound wolves raged upon ze cliffs, ze first thing I did was to run the opposite way, to help opkepa.” Her voice was gentle, unassuming, a little hesitant but without the boasting of one’s actions. ”I... don’t know why I went, I knew I wouldn’t be of any help in ze fighting. Maybe it was some forgotten part of me that remembered I’d been born into a haven, and raised according to that. Now, I practically live in ze apothecary,” the pallid female gave a faint shake of her head, lashes shuttering for a moment, before turning back to Blodreina. ”I... have no aversion to healing, of course. Only, I’ve been looking at ze stars all mine life; now that I am here... perhaps I can be more of use to Drakru with botany.”

A weary, thoughtful hum followed her words, and then the corners of her lips curled, softly, in humility. ”I appreciate your offer; I’ve been vying for a new mentor, as of late. Although, I hope to do your mamâ justice,” she chirruped.

As her thoughts danced to the bachata of the shadowy cheka, she knew it wasn’t entirely his fault; they’d only had a few sparing lessons, with everything that had gone on between the Drakru and those of the Sound... and between themselves. She cleared her throat with a mild ruffle of her hackles, bringing her attention back to the Blood Queen, ”I promise to be studious, of course, and to learn all I may.”