the daydreamer's nightmare is to never even try

Myrika Tears · 06-24-2012, 01:10 AM

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The redhead was strangely calm as she moved amongst the caves. Perhaps she ought to be nervous, but Myrika saw no other choice but to do the duty Ezekiel had set upon her. She could run away -- running away was always an option, after all -- but she did not want to. As little as she liked the idea of herself bearing the title of Aquila, as awkwardly as she felt it would rest over her, the tawny-furred woman would not leave everything she'd created and crafted and found in Inferni behind. The things she valued most could not be packed on top of a horse and carried off: not without kidnapping, anyway.

The entrance to Vesper's cave wasn't far from Ithiel's. The waves were audible on this clear, quiet morning, and Myrika paused for a moment beside the scarred Centurion's den, listening and thinking. She would have liked to come here first, but she could not, in her first act as leader, throw herself at her subleader for comforts. In truth, too, she feared Vesper might anger at Ezekiel's decision. She was the subleader; wasn't she more entitled to the leadership? Myrika bit her lip. Perhaps if it was someone else, but she did not think Vesper could be angry with her -- or at least, she hoped enough to fool herself into belief.

The tawny-furred woman hovered in the entrance, bright blue eyes appraising the leather covering. Vesper, she called, not wanting to barge in uninvited. Not now, anyway.

Myrika is by Nat!

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