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Post by Lady Freya Mercades on Aug 23, 2014 4:10:49 GMT
Freyas hand stretches to meet the weathered grip of the warrior, riding tall atop the horse. Her fingers grasp around his palm and quickly retract, anticipating another jolt. Met with nothing but a pained smile from Ainvar, she accepts his hand and straddles the horse with ease. Her hands reluctantly find themselves on Ainvars waist, the smell of coagulated blood flooding her nose. The [now human] Lady looks back to the small clearing: a macabre picture of blackened earth and blood.
The horse whinnies softly and begins to trod towards The City of The Locks.
Freya focuses her glassy eyes on the clearing, her last drops of magic blood fading like ancient history in the horizon.
[To be continued in the Plain of Spears thread!]
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