Private Roleplay Wing - Printable Version

Cetseni has lingered among the lanzadoii, keeping herself distant, finding respite in solace where she can, for there is no other muradoii to commiserate with, just the chieftain's broken son and the moon-girl made servant who were close in age.

Her mind weighs heavily on it all. Tso'khun is gone, all that remained by the time the errant hawk-girl arrived was the bloodstained grass where he met his end. Yakone was gone too, swallowed by the winter winds, vanishing into the vastness of this different land. She thought she might follow her sister's trail, but by the time she'd come back home, all that once was had gone cold as the black sea ice. Cetseni felt the tendrils of taboo feelings crawling down her back, longing, guilt, she saw to it that those feelings stayed right where they were; in her head, and even there, they still felt blasphemous.

And mother, oh mother, of course she was gone, and what had her daughters come to learn from her? That nothing and nobody could be trusted, not even the blood that bore you, though perhaps that was the goal all along. It left her bitter, still naive enough to have hoped for more.

It was her own fault Yakone was gone, this she felt strongly. Were she not so caught up in her dreams and where they led, she could've been there when the hunt went wrong. She could've seen her sister leave with her brother in tow. She could've gone too.

But she resisted the urge to follow cold trails. Something else kept her here, a feeling of something yet unfinished, one she could not shake.

Cetseni is roused from pitiful thoughts by the approach of the chieftain's other son. A growl rumbles in the back of her throat, eyes of vibrant bloodsage turn from snowy wastes to glare into pearls of blue ice. One of you. Was. She grumbles in response, tail flicking, she put another few steps of distance between them as if his mere presence was enough to repulse her. Cetseni. Sivaak's daughter. Muradoii. there was a bitterness clung to her tongue. that she would even need introduction.

He hides his limp but Cetseni sniffs a weakness on him. Maybe it's something closer to projection. She sizes him up.

Cold words are nothing new to dark ears, if anything, they are more familiar than softened words would have been, easier to digest. Mother is gone, this, she knew was as true and as real as the air in her lungs, and always meant to be.

There were many hard truths of late. Tso'khun's cold body, Yakone's scent disappearing as tundra storms swept across the plains, stealing even the memory of them. Cetseni loathes this feeling that crawls into her chest, settles amongst the ribs and bores deeper still; a hollowed out creature, she would become.

I do not look for her. Cetseni answers with a sharpness, if only to soothe what remains to her pride before she gave the admission that yes, in fact, she did have to trail Lanzadoii hunters for scraps of meat and the forever unspoken desire to hear other voices on the wind, to trick herself into thinking she is not completely alone. She gives her answer simply, accompanied by a break in her stare, where it would find the snow instead. ...Yes.

Have you come to stop me? She returns to that icy gaze of his, to search it for challenge while she lays out her own.

Muradoii felt an itch to spill blood; though whether it was his or her own, she did not know.