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

In the heat of the moment (and that moment was hot…), tempers began to fray and true colours began to shine. The man from the forest, the one whose face resembled a cactus, paused to offer his one-liner. At least Valkyrie never pretended to be anything less than she was: perfect, obviously, and she stood there pompously as the patterned wench’s suddenly switched character (a flaw) broached the barrier of personal space, to deliver a spray of spittle-fringed venom in her face. Though disgusted - she would need to bathe after this ridiculous event concluded - the haughty fjord flinched only for the purpose of swerving her chin upwards so that the polished tip of her blade might ghost a warning by the other’s silly-looking expression. “Berserk doesn’t suit you, sweetie…” she offered freely, as a token of her better nature in the face of such inappropriate adversity. It seemed to her unusual that a woman should behave in such impulsive, primitive, masculine, style. Tripping the wayward tree had barely crossed her mind, let alone urged her foot forward - though the thought still amused her. With the fraction of value, she’d found in the girl thinning away, Valkyrie offered something of a dismissive smile and dipped her crown to the gruffalo, there enslaved to her shoulder, hip… where-ever. The frosty gesture was apparently to fall upon blind eyes, however, as Zoeya (in her bipolar excitement), snorted noisily, turning, and with her pet in tow, wandered away to coddle the weakling colt. “Two peas in a pod…” she mused insolently, chuckling under her breath at the mix-breeds bold display of vomit-worthy tender-heartedness. The crowd continued along at a constructive gait, it seemed, and Valkyrie sauntered along behind without need for the same urge.