Well and truly consumed by her exaggerated sense of self, with overconfidence wrapped like towel around her bigoted head, Valkyrie failed to notice the stallion who rushed in vain from the group loitering, to stop her.
The water in the river, frothing and furious as the light of the fire Kiada bore nearer, lashed out vehemently to cloak the haughty Shieldmaiden in a disgustingly sticky substance - and avoid the other mare, altogether. A strident protest rose pointlessly from the frown swift of engulf her pale face, and heeding the warning with more sense in her mind, she staggered backwards to put distance between them.
When she was a good deal clear of the thrashing, foaming stew, Valkyrie paused with her chin swerving backwards and forwards above her lean frame. She was lathered in the filth, and none to impressed. No matter how she rubbed her plush nose against her skin, there was no budging it from her soft, creamy-white skin.
Momentarily she was distracted, when the shape of the obnoxious god reappeared and the full extent of her botheration was aimed through a sharp glare in his direction. The black horse she’d (hardly) met with Kiada, was swift to answer His demands and Valkyrie turned her attention to observe his sleek form slithering between those crowded. Curiously, he paused briefly, by the shoulder of Roscorro, before continuing on towards the boulders skirting the scene.
“Right… she muttered flatly, rolling her blue eyes back towards the river, and laughed internally, bitterly, presuming he meant to stop the flow with rocks nearly his own size. Because she was female: smarter, braver, lovelier in every sense, the helmed pegasus retrieved her spear from the ground nearby and set to work thinking of a better course of action.
Blood Falls
