crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd

Salvia Eternity · 04-03-2012, 01:28 AM

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(335) blarp, you should be on AIM

Having never experienced trauma on a physical level, she was in turmoil and struggling with the weight of such a thing. Emotionally, she had been broken before—by the same man, of course—and she had recovered from this quickly. By pushing all of the dark things down, she did not need to face them. She became a princess of ice, hiding all emotions and presenting only a persona that suggested power and prowess. The flaws under her skin were faint ones, like fine cracks in a well made ceramic. Some were larger than others now, but on the outside, she showed no flaw. Only one mark remained; it was a high wound, above her eye, small but none the less there.

She sensed his presence long before he spoke. The very air radiated with his musk, with his reptilian coldness. Twin impulses tore at her. It was the stronger of these, the savage dog loyalty, that caused her to rise. Even bruised, even aching and exhausted, she carried herself from her room and into the large central area.

A dark thing stood there, a masquerading monarch whose true face was made of unfamiliar forests and dangerous things. He was feral in the way she was feral; they were both wild things, but wild things refined to pretend. Dangerous things—they were not half so domesticated as many of their southern neighbors. The north bred a hardier breed.

Salvia stood before him, naked in her own home, hair loose and shoulders squared. If he had come to punish her, she would face him as a loyal soldier. Her head dipped, and she approached him as if she felt no fear. It would not due to show him this now, and despite her misgivings, she was Salsola’s first daughter and would honor what this meant. “My lord,” she greeted him formally, but did not move to touch him. This hesitation was the only sign of any fear. He, above all others, would surely understand her trepidation.

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