08-16-2018, 12:36 AM
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 55%; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px;"]Typically, the gentle cleric is a picture of elegance and composure. Not a single silver fur out of place, a pleasant smile permanently etched upon her lovely visage. After several days of confinement, however, the stress is beginning to show. When Imperia grows tired of counting and recounting the meager reserve of herbs and food, the slender predator paces back and forth along the wall where the main doors are located. All she can think about is how much she wants to leave. She has to get out, to be free. Because in spite of the observatory's size, the she-wolf is still confined. Metal panels look like rough stone walls in the darkness, mathematically perfect symmetry resembling the chaotic organization of a cave carved from ancient rivers the longer the female's mind delves in her hysteria.
Every second that ticks by drags on for hundreds of years, the walls leaning in closer and closer until she no longer can move. Pierre's booming voice echoes in the distance, inspiring primal fear to blossom within her chest. Imperia needs to hide from him--her father, that monster. She needs to hide, but she can't. She can't because he is not truly here. Reality blends into memory the longer she is immersed in this darkness, the constant anxiety causing the poor creature to grit and grind her teeth. The cleric is not entirely present, drifting in and out of waking visions or daydreams. Peri wonders if Moonmade is okay. Has he returned? Is he injured? If he were here, she could take care of him. She could curl up beside him and listen to him chatter--yes, that would calm her for sure. But he isn't here, and she isn't calm.
Bastille's voice breaks her from the never-ending jumble of thoughts. Tired grey eyes the color of white gold flicker over to observe the male. What is he saying? Oh, a task. Peri is tired; exhausted from the constant stress which originates her from her fear of confinement. Were she more coherent, she might have shared Roy's frustration. For now, at least, the she-wolf is simply pleased to hear that there is now some method with which to escape.
"Would you like to come with me to check some of the corridors and rooms?" Peri asks Zjarr in a soft voice. Her delicately accented voice is laden with exhaustion, but she still manages a kind smile. The cyborg wolf is unfamiliar, but he seems friendly enough. Besides, maybe the act of meeting and interacting with a new person will distract her mind from her other worries. "My name is Imperia. It's nice to meet you." The single, glowing red eye intrigues the rather studious canine, but she refrains from asking a million questions about how his body is put together.
Every second that ticks by drags on for hundreds of years, the walls leaning in closer and closer until she no longer can move. Pierre's booming voice echoes in the distance, inspiring primal fear to blossom within her chest. Imperia needs to hide from him--her father, that monster. She needs to hide, but she can't. She can't because he is not truly here. Reality blends into memory the longer she is immersed in this darkness, the constant anxiety causing the poor creature to grit and grind her teeth. The cleric is not entirely present, drifting in and out of waking visions or daydreams. Peri wonders if Moonmade is okay. Has he returned? Is he injured? If he were here, she could take care of him. She could curl up beside him and listen to him chatter--yes, that would calm her for sure. But he isn't here, and she isn't calm.
Bastille's voice breaks her from the never-ending jumble of thoughts. Tired grey eyes the color of white gold flicker over to observe the male. What is he saying? Oh, a task. Peri is tired; exhausted from the constant stress which originates her from her fear of confinement. Were she more coherent, she might have shared Roy's frustration. For now, at least, the she-wolf is simply pleased to hear that there is now some method with which to escape.
"Would you like to come with me to check some of the corridors and rooms?" Peri asks Zjarr in a soft voice. Her delicately accented voice is laden with exhaustion, but she still manages a kind smile. The cyborg wolf is unfamiliar, but he seems friendly enough. Besides, maybe the act of meeting and interacting with a new person will distract her mind from her other worries. "My name is Imperia. It's nice to meet you." The single, glowing red eye intrigues the rather studious canine, but she refrains from asking a million questions about how his body is put together.