Survival
#3
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(Lol, your rambling pleases my eyes though <3 ...mine, however >.>)

Sonje by Sie!


Gripping the pig uncouthly by the gash in its neck and the back of the head, she was scuttling backwards awkwardly, pulling it up the wide path that led to the front of the barn from the main road below. But even with the raucous sound of gravel being raked beneath the lifeless, dead-weight of her prize, Sonje heard horsesteps that were not her own mare's. She looked up sharply, ears pursing in the steed's direction, a thick-footed horse (or of "draft" heritage, in Sonje jargon) like Jagga, she observed from sound alone. She was particularly disappointed though, when the horse did come into view, that it had a rider. She watched warily as the pair came closer, appropriately slowly, but still she stopped moving and kept crouched beside the sow. She suddenly wished she hadn't thrown her charred spike indiscriminately to the side earlier.

Closer, her eyes were drawn to the young woman's hair, and the jewelry dangling against her chest. She sat tall, and had a naturally proud set about her face. Sonje immediately didn't trust her. A lowly snake she could deal with—the slimeballs were either too confident or too neanderthal-like to hide their true intentions—but the placidity, the levelness and sometimes kindness (mostly of women) were simply faces she could not trust. Who knew if a dagger lie up the sleeve of a helping hand? But mostly her unpleasant mistrust came from her naturally feral possessiveness over her kill, the present disadvantage against the obviously well-stocked rider, and the irritatingly eerie attraction to her semblance. Sonje had never seen a girl she thought as radiant as her mother (even if they didn't look alike), it was the Helsi blood she was unwittingly recognizing, as she would never think any woman other than a Helsi could be as magnificent. She would perhaps learn this particular vanity about herself later.

She thought to address the Luperci with an equally as level response, but her nerves were fraying as she realized she could be ambushed at any moment. Breathing, she only managed an ungraciously defensive Yes? betwixt pearly teeth she bore in a frustrated grimace, before pursing her lips in loose reservation. An ear twitched as the bare-backed Jagga finally trotted up behind her, tossing her gray head nervously as she shied from her master's warding anxiety, but standing resolutely near, nervously looking between the parties—her eyes curiously lingered on the other horse, shamefully missing the company of other equines.


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