05-05-2018, 05:11 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt;"]Correct, Imperia did remain steadfast in spite of her residual terror upon Eternalwar’s arrival. Albeit, just barely. It is not to say that the tigress’ looks terrified the young fae, for Peri has gazed upon many a monster who resided within her forest, but the horrible memory of her people’s slaughter coupled with the instinctual fear of predators nearly overwhelmed her ability to reason. Only the sheer strength of the pure-hearted creature’s desire to see the good in everyone keeps her from shattering into a quivering mess. Granted, the appearance of Suiteheart certainly tested the fortitude of such inclinations. Peri nearly starts as the polar bear strides through the grasses, but the warm aura radiating from the creature calms her instaneously. Emotions are something she has always been sensitive to—perhaps “aware” is a better word? Regardless, the friendly smile and the attempt at French wins over the fear.
’Quoi de neuf?’ Another tentative smile, softening the worry lines from her angelic visage. ”S-salut,” she responds in kind, assuming the phrase was intended more of a greeting than anything else. It feels strange to use informal language, but Peri thinks it might feel even stranger to respond formally. Regardless, she enjoys speaking in her native language. Most days she only uses common tongue to communicate with others. ”Enchanté, Madame Suiteheart.” Her slender skull lowers in a respectful nod. ”I appreciate the offer—I will keep that in mind.” Imperia went back and forth in her head, debating whether or not to address Suite as ‘Madame’ or ‘Mademoiselle.’ She has a more mature aura than Eternalwar, so she went with the former. She is reassured in her choice when a lovely little cat named Margaery arrives, introducing herself as Suite’s spouse. Although the feline is still a predator, the reduction in size compared to the two imposing prior arrivals is quite welcome. There is no muting the voice I’m her head which constantly alarms whenever someone dangerous-looking is around, no matter how hard she’s tries to ignore it.
So distracted is Imperia by Margaery’s lovely appearance that she nearly misses the words spoken in her direction. Large ears prick forward attentively to listen before a bashful expression colors her ethereal visage, long lashes fluttered above a pair of silver eyes. ”Oh, no merci, Madame,” responds the forest fae in a soft voice. Oddly enough, her wintery pelt begins to emit a soft glow, akin to a distant star, in a sort of blushing response to the expression of concern. ”I do not wish to be a burden,” she continues, meeting Margaery’s blue-grey gaze. ”These wounds shall heal on their own soon enough.” like all immortals, her form is wonderfully resilient to damage and quick to mend, but that does not reduce the pain. And while the physical scars fade, it is the emotional trauma which poses the most threat. Suddenly, a thoughtful expression flickers across Imperia’s innocent features. ”If I may,” she prepositions, ever polite. ”How long have you two been married?” the doe glances between Suiteheart and Margaery curiously.
A fourth and fifth arrival redirects her attention once more. Is that...a kitten riding a colt? The young horse, Arion, is a lovely buckskin color. She has seen humans ride steeds of coal black and stone grey and even a chestnut brown, but never such a delicate, almost sun-washed color. Arion is a much leaner breed than the equines she has encountered before, with the exception of a unicorn. Peri’s little white tail swishes back and forth with interest. Gone are the shivering knees and pinned ears of a terrified refugee. Imperia is far more at ease than she was even five minutes before. Perhaps she is too trusting, but she likes to think that the Ascendents are good people. ”‘Tis a pleasure to meet you both.” With all the introductions complete, the youthful creature is suddenly aware that she has no idea what to do next. Hopefully someone will offer some guidance because she has never done this sort of thing before.
’Quoi de neuf?’ Another tentative smile, softening the worry lines from her angelic visage. ”S-salut,” she responds in kind, assuming the phrase was intended more of a greeting than anything else. It feels strange to use informal language, but Peri thinks it might feel even stranger to respond formally. Regardless, she enjoys speaking in her native language. Most days she only uses common tongue to communicate with others. ”Enchanté, Madame Suiteheart.” Her slender skull lowers in a respectful nod. ”I appreciate the offer—I will keep that in mind.” Imperia went back and forth in her head, debating whether or not to address Suite as ‘Madame’ or ‘Mademoiselle.’ She has a more mature aura than Eternalwar, so she went with the former. She is reassured in her choice when a lovely little cat named Margaery arrives, introducing herself as Suite’s spouse. Although the feline is still a predator, the reduction in size compared to the two imposing prior arrivals is quite welcome. There is no muting the voice I’m her head which constantly alarms whenever someone dangerous-looking is around, no matter how hard she’s tries to ignore it.
So distracted is Imperia by Margaery’s lovely appearance that she nearly misses the words spoken in her direction. Large ears prick forward attentively to listen before a bashful expression colors her ethereal visage, long lashes fluttered above a pair of silver eyes. ”Oh, no merci, Madame,” responds the forest fae in a soft voice. Oddly enough, her wintery pelt begins to emit a soft glow, akin to a distant star, in a sort of blushing response to the expression of concern. ”I do not wish to be a burden,” she continues, meeting Margaery’s blue-grey gaze. ”These wounds shall heal on their own soon enough.” like all immortals, her form is wonderfully resilient to damage and quick to mend, but that does not reduce the pain. And while the physical scars fade, it is the emotional trauma which poses the most threat. Suddenly, a thoughtful expression flickers across Imperia’s innocent features. ”If I may,” she prepositions, ever polite. ”How long have you two been married?” the doe glances between Suiteheart and Margaery curiously.
A fourth and fifth arrival redirects her attention once more. Is that...a kitten riding a colt? The young horse, Arion, is a lovely buckskin color. She has seen humans ride steeds of coal black and stone grey and even a chestnut brown, but never such a delicate, almost sun-washed color. Arion is a much leaner breed than the equines she has encountered before, with the exception of a unicorn. Peri’s little white tail swishes back and forth with interest. Gone are the shivering knees and pinned ears of a terrified refugee. Imperia is far more at ease than she was even five minutes before. Perhaps she is too trusting, but she likes to think that the Ascendents are good people. ”‘Tis a pleasure to meet you both.” With all the introductions complete, the youthful creature is suddenly aware that she has no idea what to do next. Hopefully someone will offer some guidance because she has never done this sort of thing before.