[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; color: black;"]Help.
She tried not to look shocked at the unfamiliarity of the offer, swallowing down the quickly reforming pride that rose like bile in her throat. Agathe's clan was not composed of people such as this one. Any injuries sustained were cared for and treated by the individual who carried them, even the most backwards of pleads for help seen as disgraceful. Tedious. Under her thick pelt, her body was laced with scars from wounds that had never healed right, large and awkward paws always incapable of truly applying the bitter-tasting poultice of herbs right. Despite the assumed benevolence of the Ascendants, she had still believed that they followed similar practices and that she would be forced to fend for herself.
Was it bad that discovering the exact opposite brought the faintest of smiles to her face?
"Help... Yes, that would be appreciated," She affirmed, tossing her cloak over her shoulder to reveal the barely clotted gash that ran from her shoulder to her mid flank. "My grandmother never misses and I haven't had much time to sit down and treat it properly," She explained with a mild shrug. At least the next to arrive seemed to be in just as sorry of a state, though she, too, refused to comment on it, merely glancing down at her iron bracers and permitting that smile to expand into a sharp-toothed grin. "My clan valued iron weaponry above all. Our matrons always wear iron claws- they hurt like an absolute bitch."
Golden eyes would land upon Moon next, studying the Seraph with a predator's intent. She had to blink a few times to remind herself that things were different now, that she didn't have to look at somebody with a stare sharp enough to intimidate. These people were going to take her in and care for her- she owed them that rare tenderness that not even her closest clanmates had seen. "Like I said, my wonderful matron never misses. And yes, we're all blue blooded. Our ancestors were witches, which is why we wear iron- to keep us grounded or some dumb shit like that. Personally? I don't buy it." She paused only to take a step forward, wincing involuntary as a wave of pain rose to greet her, "So we have Gabe... But neither of you introduced yourself. It's rude to keep an injured lady waiting, didn't anyone ever teach you that?"
She tried not to look shocked at the unfamiliarity of the offer, swallowing down the quickly reforming pride that rose like bile in her throat. Agathe's clan was not composed of people such as this one. Any injuries sustained were cared for and treated by the individual who carried them, even the most backwards of pleads for help seen as disgraceful. Tedious. Under her thick pelt, her body was laced with scars from wounds that had never healed right, large and awkward paws always incapable of truly applying the bitter-tasting poultice of herbs right. Despite the assumed benevolence of the Ascendants, she had still believed that they followed similar practices and that she would be forced to fend for herself.
Was it bad that discovering the exact opposite brought the faintest of smiles to her face?
"Help... Yes, that would be appreciated," She affirmed, tossing her cloak over her shoulder to reveal the barely clotted gash that ran from her shoulder to her mid flank. "My grandmother never misses and I haven't had much time to sit down and treat it properly," She explained with a mild shrug. At least the next to arrive seemed to be in just as sorry of a state, though she, too, refused to comment on it, merely glancing down at her iron bracers and permitting that smile to expand into a sharp-toothed grin. "My clan valued iron weaponry above all. Our matrons always wear iron claws- they hurt like an absolute bitch."
Golden eyes would land upon Moon next, studying the Seraph with a predator's intent. She had to blink a few times to remind herself that things were different now, that she didn't have to look at somebody with a stare sharp enough to intimidate. These people were going to take her in and care for her- she owed them that rare tenderness that not even her closest clanmates had seen. "Like I said, my wonderful matron never misses. And yes, we're all blue blooded. Our ancestors were witches, which is why we wear iron- to keep us grounded or some dumb shit like that. Personally? I don't buy it." She paused only to take a step forward, wincing involuntary as a wave of pain rose to greet her, "So we have Gabe... But neither of you introduced yourself. It's rude to keep an injured lady waiting, didn't anyone ever teach you that?"
[font=arial][color=#510205][size=16pt]WATCH IT [i]GROW[/i], CHILD OF WAR
[align=center][div style="margin-top: -9px; font-size: 10pt"][color=black][font=helvetica]agathe ashyver | the ascendants | astral seraph | tags