11-19-2019, 10:10 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-19-2019, 12:34 PM by Kamara Jilani.)
even strength must bow to wisdom sometimes
[align=center]code by spacexual
[throws in Kydobi’s half sister]
She never wanted power, war, or revenge. It was all mortal play. Wasting their temporary time on futile gestures. So she had left the people of Tanglewood. She attempted her hand at Typhoon but seeing their leader was the one helping continue the fight she quickly gathered her things and high tailed it out.
This was not her war. No war was her war. She never fought for retaliation or vengeance. Only would her hand raise in defense. Even then she did not mind dying. She always came back. But she would not die for a fierce and alien cause in a foreign land of strangers. Even if there was some moral justification, when one got down to it... it was all the same.
Hurt one for this. Hurt one for that. Take all of this. Leave nothing. Leave everything. Lose. Win. It was all so repetitive. It was another eternal cycle of this life. One of the many cycles that made Kamara loathe her immortality. She had a terrible habit of not staying somewhere for too long. In search of something she could not quite find, lately the leopardess was beginning to suspect she was searching for eternal sleep. But she would not get it and so she would be forced to play this game.
For a month or so, the hybrid would roam alone. A large percent of her lives were spent this way so she did not mind the solidarity. Free to do whatever she fancied without duty. But life gets boring when you have no responsibilities to any but yourself. Especially when those responsibilities are minimal. So once again she was craving to be within the vicinity of others, to be apart of something grander than herself.
It always started that way, sometimes she intended to stay. She always left. But for now she hoped to find somewhere to satiate her curiosity. Once she learned of a group that took no part in the battles, she would make her way towards them immediately. A group formed in the aftermath by none other than a Pittian by the sounds of it. But the birds had told her they were not if the same stock. Different morals.
Good.
The goddess arrived, standing atop a mound in the rolling green hills. Farther down, rabbits hobbled and bounded. Kamara closed her eyes, inhaling the fresh air deep into her lungs before exhaling as she opened them. This land was good. This land was clean. This land was green and fertile.
There was a nostalgic calm to it. Something so familiar to her and yet she couldn’t quite recall why or what it reminded her of. But it felt safe. It felt secure.
Perhaps she would find what she desired. Or someone to help her.
Knowing she was crossing boundaries and borders she would keep her posture neutral, inviting. First impressions were everything.
but all bow to her
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