10-22-2018, 11:12 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; color;"]In that regard, Agathe supposed that she and Maria couldn't be any more different.
Agathe categorized names and faces as easily as she took in air to breathe. Of course, she would not be afraid to admit that she sometimes played the part of a clueless girl who had yet to fully familiarize herself with her clanmates- but that was all a well designed act to gauge the reactions of others and see how they truly behaved when presented with the timeless annoyance of being forgotten. And perhaps she derived entertainment from her little hobby as well... Though she would never confess to that.
When it came to being remembered however, Agathe couldn't find it in herself to care less. She had long since labelled herself as a silent force that reveled not in the infamy of her name, but rather, the disorientation and desolation that her actions caused. In the past, she had once moved and killed so quickly that all anyone saw was the flash of a red cloak and a low snarl. In that regard, she supposed she might even enjoy being lost among a crowd of faces and names, as seemingly unimportant as the next person. It made her feel a little less like what she actually was and a little more like who she wanted to be. Even if there was a part of her that longed for recognition for what her sisters might call glory and her victims might call damnation.
Here, it seemed as if she made enough of an impression to have not been forgotten... yet. It wasn't until she heard Maria's charming call, that she realized that the fiery somali whom she had seen only once could indeed only recollect the faces of a supposed 'Mufasa' and 'Cannibal Boy'. Interesting. Though her paws were itching to run and push the limits of her body, the rational part of her mind knew that she had been training too hard as of late and risked reopening the wound on her side that had just begun to heal. She supposed that conversation, no matter how unpleasant it might prove to be, was her only option.
And so she approached the fire-wielding girl, flashed her teeth in a crooked smile, and then sat down, her red cloak pooling around her. "Agathe Ashyver. You're not much newer than I am."
Agathe categorized names and faces as easily as she took in air to breathe. Of course, she would not be afraid to admit that she sometimes played the part of a clueless girl who had yet to fully familiarize herself with her clanmates- but that was all a well designed act to gauge the reactions of others and see how they truly behaved when presented with the timeless annoyance of being forgotten. And perhaps she derived entertainment from her little hobby as well... Though she would never confess to that.
When it came to being remembered however, Agathe couldn't find it in herself to care less. She had long since labelled herself as a silent force that reveled not in the infamy of her name, but rather, the disorientation and desolation that her actions caused. In the past, she had once moved and killed so quickly that all anyone saw was the flash of a red cloak and a low snarl. In that regard, she supposed she might even enjoy being lost among a crowd of faces and names, as seemingly unimportant as the next person. It made her feel a little less like what she actually was and a little more like who she wanted to be. Even if there was a part of her that longed for recognition for what her sisters might call glory and her victims might call damnation.
Here, it seemed as if she made enough of an impression to have not been forgotten... yet. It wasn't until she heard Maria's charming call, that she realized that the fiery somali whom she had seen only once could indeed only recollect the faces of a supposed 'Mufasa' and 'Cannibal Boy'. Interesting. Though her paws were itching to run and push the limits of her body, the rational part of her mind knew that she had been training too hard as of late and risked reopening the wound on her side that had just begun to heal. She supposed that conversation, no matter how unpleasant it might prove to be, was her only option.
And so she approached the fire-wielding girl, flashed her teeth in a crooked smile, and then sat down, her red cloak pooling around her. "Agathe Ashyver. You're not much newer than I am."
[font=arial][color=#510205][size=16pt]WATCH IT [i]GROW[/i], CHILD OF WAR
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