[SWP] ... Are You Ready For It?

Something deep within her smarted as the man with the muddy-tinted coat turned, ignoring the question asked entirely, and proceeded without warning to remove himself from her company. Was Valkyrie offended? Her eyes narrowed coldly upon the back end of him, the cloak of auburn feathers he wore, and she thought to deal a swift, punishing bite down upon it all before movement just beyond him diverted her notice. Around about the same moment, there came the thunder of another’s hard hooves against loam and without any time between to process, an unfamiliar woman came flying out at speed from the tree line. Impressive was the effort that the other went to, to avoid a collision - the twisted leg and near-violent angel did not pass the Shieldmaiden by unaffected. A smile ignited upon her lips (rare indeed), and the white flash of her teeth singled a fleeting sense humour. From her belly bubbled the almost audible rumble of a chuckle. “You needn’t be,” she assured the other informatively with warmth she’d never offer to a man. “Are you alright?” she queried genuinely, in addition, noting the lovely paler pattern on her rich brown skin. Without considering the pair prior engaged (Vynter had wandered off anyway), Valkyrie stepped closer to the mare and dipped her soft lips towards the leg being favoured. “Recovery will be faster if you don’t let it stiffen.” Tenderly, though without touching, she examined it and then raised her eyes to find the other’s darling gaze. “I’m Valkyrie.” Very briefly, she cast a look by the odd-looking creature that had arrived along with her; whatever it was… Behind it, another figure loomed - enormous, ominous, like thunderheads ballooning ahead of a storm - and though she had seen the monster before (it had hardly presented as such, however), the watching Daughter stiffened, with a thinning, wary gaze. The behaviour, not to mention diversity, of the Rift’s plentiful folk, was certainly unpredictable. The point was validated perfectly as Vynter turned, very like a blood-hound to a scent, and locked eyes upon a rather inconspicuous tree standing huddled with the rest. With limited respect for the man already (there was none, actually, despite his previous aid), she slithered that way and sighed for his benefit alone. “I suppose there’s a likemindedness between you,” she grinned broadly, a whisper that their audience should not be able to hear; perhaps joking - but probably not. “Why don’t you spit on it and see if it likes you back…’ As far as Valkyrie knew, it was just dense wood.