10-27-2020, 06:04 PM
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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2e8b57; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]I'LL C[color=#36829c]OME BACK WHEN YOU CALL ME
The petite deer-fox may have an eye for poetry, but she felt fully content passing by when she heard Vale's voice screeching. She had work to do. The satchel on her side heavy with freshly gathered herbs.
She snorted quietly, eyes rolling on instinct. Get over yourself, Vale. At least Jack... That was impressive. Just jumping in. Her own voice would surely crack and stutter.
Aine felt an irritated noise build in her throat when it kept going. Fine. Her hazel hues narrowed fiercely as she trotted over. Round two? She'd play this game. She had no intention of seeing Vale on the throne. She'd rather die than see the destruction that would bring.
"Hope you don' mind," god she hated rhyming out loud. 'm low on time."
Work to do, 'm sure da does too.
But you need to fall in-line.
All I hear is a screeching fool,
What are you, Stryker's tool?
Thinks everythin' is just for show,
you'd rather go-go-go, than really know.
But you don' know a thing,
guess what -- it was a Tangler who lit our jungle aflame,
more fire you'd bring.
Aine remembered. The crackling. The smoke. Crow's triumphant voice ringing out in fury. Her wings pressed closer against her sides.
You thin' you're scary?
Sorry to say contrary.
Live a life as long as da,
it's easy to get over ya.
But like I said, 'm listenin' to a fool,
I think you really are, just Stryker's tool.
With a breath, she stopped, eyes ice cold. She had some real words to say. "Y-You say you're loyal, 'an that's not for personal gain, but it takes disagreeing with one decision for you to demand power for yourself."
"What kind of leader would you be? You can't take one rejection about allying - somethin we don't do here - 'an would rather continue to pick a fight when the one who backed you needed medical attention."
"Do you know? Do you know how hard it is, to breathe, with broken ribs? Life's not a game, Vale. It's not for fun. It hurts when someone dies. But you weren't here. You don't know how many we lost before you came. 'an you're just like Jervis; you'd rather just dive right into the flames, with no regard for our lives."
"Get over yourself."
Her heart felt like runaway train. Chest tight. Aine huffed softly, shouldering her satchel. "'ve got real work to do."
"Oh, and don't you know?" Since zey seemed so adamantly offended by his absence. "Da patrols regularly every day -- like I said; there's work to do. Not that you care."
The fae rolled her eyes, giving Jack a smile before trotting off towards the white temple, notably indifferent to if anyone called after her. Patients and herbs came before poetry fights.
[ out! ]
[/td][/tr][/table]She snorted quietly, eyes rolling on instinct. Get over yourself, Vale. At least Jack... That was impressive. Just jumping in. Her own voice would surely crack and stutter.
Aine felt an irritated noise build in her throat when it kept going. Fine. Her hazel hues narrowed fiercely as she trotted over. Round two? She'd play this game. She had no intention of seeing Vale on the throne. She'd rather die than see the destruction that would bring.
"Hope you don' mind," god she hated rhyming out loud. 'm low on time."
Work to do, 'm sure da does too.
But you need to fall in-line.
All I hear is a screeching fool,
What are you, Stryker's tool?
Thinks everythin' is just for show,
you'd rather go-go-go, than really know.
But you don' know a thing,
guess what -- it was a Tangler who lit our jungle aflame,
more fire you'd bring.
Aine remembered. The crackling. The smoke. Crow's triumphant voice ringing out in fury. Her wings pressed closer against her sides.
You thin' you're scary?
Sorry to say contrary.
Live a life as long as da,
it's easy to get over ya.
But like I said, 'm listenin' to a fool,
I think you really are, just Stryker's tool.
With a breath, she stopped, eyes ice cold. She had some real words to say. "Y-You say you're loyal, 'an that's not for personal gain, but it takes disagreeing with one decision for you to demand power for yourself."
"What kind of leader would you be? You can't take one rejection about allying - somethin we don't do here - 'an would rather continue to pick a fight when the one who backed you needed medical attention."
"Do you know? Do you know how hard it is, to breathe, with broken ribs? Life's not a game, Vale. It's not for fun. It hurts when someone dies. But you weren't here. You don't know how many we lost before you came. 'an you're just like Jervis; you'd rather just dive right into the flames, with no regard for our lives."
"Get over yourself."
Her heart felt like runaway train. Chest tight. Aine huffed softly, shouldering her satchel. "'ve got real work to do."
"Oh, and don't you know?" Since zey seemed so adamantly offended by his absence. "Da patrols regularly every day -- like I said; there's work to do. Not that you care."
The fae rolled her eyes, giving Jack a smile before trotting off towards the white temple, notably indifferent to if anyone called after her. Patients and herbs came before poetry fights.
[ out! ]
© MADI
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AINE CHARLOTTE NÍ BROIN - THE PITT - 10 MOONS - RED DEER-FOX
[div style="font-size: 12px; padding-top: 175px; padding-right: 30px; padding-left: 5px; color: white; text-align: left; text-transform: uppercase"]I come & scour
desert flower
the land for the