Seeking Aid

VALKYRIE She stood in the storm They arrived about late morning, at an old, burnt-out tree which had clearly seen better days. It was huge, dominating the dreary-grey sky-scape, rainless for a change, as far as her waning interest cared to see. Though there was indeed a peculiar amount of majesty woven through the intricate arrangement of otherwise gnarled, lifeless branches, Valkyrie felt less than inspired in its presence as they lingered, and a cavernous yawn pried her stiff jawline apart. She glanced momentarily towards K’yarie, examining the almost spiritual affect glazing the other’s depthless eyes; her grace might have been ethereal and her strength like that beyond a mortal’s (only enhanced by the masculine beef now acquired), but her friend had unquestionably peculiar fascinations… for sure. Turning back, bored, she found herself tracing the length of the tree’s hulking silhouette into the swirly veil  of mist below. The Shieldmaiden quite liked the ambiguousness about these well vegetated western regions, she felt it quite complimented the combined enigmatic essence she and the goddess embodied. Also, it obviously really flattered their boundless beauty - regardless of the ridiculous curse.   Pretty white flowers, their dense carpet thinning the nearer it came towards Valkyrie, lured down her focus, though as her whiskered lips dipped to take one pretty bloom, the star-flecked mare began to speak. Distracted, the smaller horse’s face ascended once more and her perfectly pointed ears leaned forward to listen. She was instantly intrigued, drawn subliminal to the mention of power, a thing she desired for the sake of her own, self-indulgent quest, more than anything else in the world - she aimed to take it by whatever means necessary. The daughter of Sunnmōre drew a baited breath and held it. “Of course!…” she crooned quickly and readily, subconsciously mirroring the same smooth grace she’d witnessed in K’yarie, time and time again; there was within the smaller, however, a more untameable, borderless energy. Immediately the Shieldmaiden began to sift through the faces she had seen through their travels - still more, their possessions. How nice it would be to have something as fancy as that which now adorned her companion. and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails.

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Note: For clarity, Valkyrie is currently cursed - physically she appears as a stallion, cannot remember why she hates men, and views others as the opposite gender.