Sawtooth Spire River of Swedish Fish

the speak of destiny brings to praimfaya's lips a doleful simper. wanheda knows all too well about destiny and the curves balls it is all too practiced at throwing. i believe we are who we are meant to be, she is and will always be wanheda even when death ceases to be a companion and comes to claim her for himself; reuniting her with the other spirits of the commanders. but we forge our own paths. to believe that her future is nothing more than a puppet on marionette strings is a truth she refuses to accept. as far as praimfaya can see, claiming her actions were because of destiny makes it far too easy to shift the blame and to shuck the responsibility of accepting consequences; destiny becomes a scapegoat.

fluff? no. i find your words wise, even if i have my own ideas about destiny. praimfaya offers amiably. not at all! praimfaya is quick to brush away any notions or misgivings that she is bored. i enjoy a good philosophical conversation now and then. being wanheda meant she was intimately tied to barbarism but praimfaya does not see why she cannot be both draconian and intellectual despite how, to most, those two traits clash.