No Music

The Shieldmaiden watched on with growing impatience as the pair before her conversed, almost; she failed to grasp the other woman’s obvious need to pursue his wordless questioning, filling the thick, echoey void (surely), between his roaming ears with information. Yet there was merit in the unnecessarily generous explanation she provided. The ghostly girl listened too, with a tentative mind, for Kiada spoke of places, magic - the very thing she’d misplaced since arriving - and the slavery of trivial beasts (like Khairi), which, should she be able to claim one quickly for herself, might serve rather conveniently in her ultimate quest to destroy a man like this one. A calculating smile began to spread through her beautifully chiselled features. Less intrigued was she by the mention of the Ball of Hope, though one had trailed her path like a bothersome fly in summer for as long as she’d been travelling through the Rift; she could only guess now, that it had broken from the one following Roscorro. She was less than grateful to have it. Certainly, there had been no perceivable boost in her hope… Valkyrie had little desire to heal their sick land anyway; it was not her issue, hardly her problem - it was theirs. The only reason she remained in this hopeless pit of rejects was the wonderful abundance of penises among them. Soon she would take her trophy and return to back through the Portal to the real world. Her sloping, creamy-white shoulders straightened as she humoured the thought, and while their game of charades went on and on, the palest’s focus faded beneath in a sudden tide of nostalgia. All of a sudden a fire ignited upon the standing mare across the way and Valkyrie leapt away, frantically blinking clear the inattentiveness which had glazed across her eyes; the man too shied backwards, and astonished blue seeks the reaction in his bottomless, expressionless black stare. She almost scoffs aloud, ignorantly misinterpreting enigma for vacantness. He is predictable… The licking flame almost took on the form of an animal - she thought - though as she realigned her unconvinced gaze to make certain, they withered and died away. Recovering proper posture, though her ears wavered with hesitation, the Daughter slithered nearer to investigate Kiada’s spine. “It’s not burnt!” She hastened to add, quickly recoiling to her previous safe distance.