08-05-2018, 05:30 PM
[align=center][div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt; width: 60%; text-align: justify;"]From the haze of a mirage emerges the lithe figure of Melantha. Chiseled muscles ripple beneath a pelt of faded gold as the formidable huntress expertly navigates the shifting sands. It is clear from her distant expression that the plain-faced female would prefer to be anywhere else than here. She is not fond of speaking with strangers. Or just not fond of strangers in general. Perhaps it is her paranoia. With a whole lifetime's worth of memories gone and only a concussion in it's place, Melantha is suspicious of everything nowadays. Perhaps she has always been like this? Who knows? She cannot remember what she used to be like, and there is no one around to tell her. The fact of the matter is that Mel does not want to be here, but she is. And the only reason for that is because she possesses the duty to guard the Ardent and to collect information. If Yes Man was not so eager to personally greet every single person who stepped foot on the Pitt's territory, the solitary predator would conduct her business from the shadows.
Piercing olive eyes study the two strangers with blatant distrust. There is no reason to hide it. They are strangers in her home and she is allowed to be wary. Melantha prefers to be upfront about how she feels about a person, anyways. Saves a lot of time in the long run because they'll always know where she stands. The manticore draws her gaze first for obvious reasons. Terrifying creatures inhabit the desert, but this is the first time she has encountered this manner of beast; though they seem peaceful enough. It is the horned cheetah who draws attention. Charon Mortem. She withholds a scoff. People who introduce their first and last names always strike Mel as elitists. Self-centered and haughty. The solitary wildcat is more inclined to like the manticore than this well-spoken female, that's for sure. Melantha does not trust those who wear masks.
The huntress does not sit and instead takes a defense position beside Yes Man. "I am Melantha," she introduces with a polite dip of her head but nothing more. "Welcome to the Pitt." Yeah, they're welcome. But Mel doesn't want them here. Well, Charon specifically. Peytriving intrigues her, though. As such, she directs her questions to them. "So what are the Rosebloods about, exactly?" World domination? Indoctrination? Trade? Power? Arts and crafts?
Piercing olive eyes study the two strangers with blatant distrust. There is no reason to hide it. They are strangers in her home and she is allowed to be wary. Melantha prefers to be upfront about how she feels about a person, anyways. Saves a lot of time in the long run because they'll always know where she stands. The manticore draws her gaze first for obvious reasons. Terrifying creatures inhabit the desert, but this is the first time she has encountered this manner of beast; though they seem peaceful enough. It is the horned cheetah who draws attention. Charon Mortem. She withholds a scoff. People who introduce their first and last names always strike Mel as elitists. Self-centered and haughty. The solitary wildcat is more inclined to like the manticore than this well-spoken female, that's for sure. Melantha does not trust those who wear masks.
The huntress does not sit and instead takes a defense position beside Yes Man. "I am Melantha," she introduces with a polite dip of her head but nothing more. "Welcome to the Pitt." Yeah, they're welcome. But Mel doesn't want them here. Well, Charon specifically. Peytriving intrigues her, though. As such, she directs her questions to them. "So what are the Rosebloods about, exactly?" World domination? Indoctrination? Trade? Power? Arts and crafts?