Stealing Sunlight

VALKYRIE She stood in the storm Valkyrie epitomised too many things that were wrong with her species, with mortals, outside the Rift, and perhaps also within. She was conceited, unkind, superficial and ridiculously chauvinistic, apparently entirely unable to conquer her narcissistic inclinations, yet, for all these aspects which soured her personality, the young horse held elements of bravery, cunning and cleverness; a potent, inconsistent blend that, by no trick of the imagination, had recently been her undoing. Hatred, vanity and single-mindedness yet blinded her interpretation of the lesson Hope had (perhaps) intended to bestow, and in truth, the curse inflicted upon her had (in these earliest of days), only served to reinforce the fundamental reasons for her loathing. Instead of the warmth, relief and clarity which the deer-like deity’s emergence should have excited within the stony soul of the adolescent (it certainly had in her peers), Valkyrie felt nothing but jealousy, resentment and broiling, overwhelming indignation. The whole mixture of this unshakable negativity, combined with the capricious nature of her character, meant that her retreat into the Rift’s western wilderness had served for no greater purpose than to cement a greater need for vengeance.   As through hit by epiphany (what else could it be?), K’yarie’s intimidating play of supremacy ceased entirely to exist - the Shieldmaiden felt an instant injection of empowerment. It was like a drug: validation. It was gratifying. The merciful goddess was pristine in every sense of the word as her rearward gliding step allowed better space to consider the brutish looking girl before her, while Valkyrie comparatively, was devious, dastardly and deceptive. This was the first time she had been able to sway, in a sense, the reaction of her idol to better indulge her selfish psyche; and it felt good. It was brilliantly convenient, utterly irresistible. Sombrely, those striking blue eyes caught the view of her company’s, undeniably playing on the startled reaction they detected. But amongst the manipulativeness bibbling to the surface, there was an honest sense of relief, for she was truly fond of the star-spangled woman who shared a good portion of her sexist, stereotyping values. K’yarie’s exquisite amethyst eyes glittered as her face moved nearer and Valkyrie greeted it with the softness of well-established affection. As their steamy skin collided, sizzling inaudibly in the rain, desire once more spiked the young Shieldmaiden's core. “K’yarie, there is more…” she hummed, lipping with impossible tenderness (given her metal conscience), at the firm ridge of her friend’s longer, white, lowered nose. Perhaps the other had not yet glanced by her reflection - a pastime shared between them with equal enjoyment. “…you… you also look like a man.” The words were issued quietly and though gentle, they were unable to reach the level of sympathy she might once have been capable of. and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails.

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