Uwaritace
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VALKYRIE She stood in the storm
The last time Valkyrie has seen the black and white, winged stranger—rather, the curious knife resting between her lips—had been by the old dead tree to the far north in the mists. Ordinarily she hadn’t the mind for thievery, and certainly, her own beloved spear was a finer prize than any other, but the pastel adolescent had been otherwise intrigued by the apparent enchantment it owned. The other horse had summoned it, one way or another, and before her incredulous, gaping stare, the weapon had assumed stunning length before bursting into a sheath of angry flames. It had been such an intriguing a spectacle that the memory of that moment had scarcely faded from the forefront of her mind. So when K’yarie suggested that she’d like her young follower to illegally acquire a possession owned by another, it was this spear that instantly appealed to her greedy excitement. It was fortunate that they had been sheltering for many weeks in the exact location required (presumably), to find the item and its unwitting keeper. After a long week discussing boring logistics (she was never one for forward-thinking)—a monotonous task, Valkyrie thought, given her much simpler plan to simply rob the other at night—it was decided that they should hunt together to find the target stranger and watch until the weapon was dropped. The goddess should then reveal herself, a decoy, a part that seemed fitting in every respect possible, and the younger would slip in behind undetected and snatch their prize. Alternatively, if the K’yarie’s masterplan failed, the Shieldmaiden still had in her mind, the idea to pounce when darkness fell. The very next morning, after the ploy had been agreed to, Valkyrie woke early and stepped lightly to practice her part. Presuming the other to be sleeping, though the brightening dawn surely would rouse her to wake soon, the pale figure slithered excitedly—as silently as she could manage—to the rear of her idol. It was her intention to take the dragon ornament from the chain which draped against K’yarie’s sleek (though masculine), ebon thigh. Adrenaline fed anticipation through her bloodstream and that, in turn, pounded as the pulse in her fastened-back ears. and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails. |
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.
@K'yarie - stealing!
