Somehow, he managed to do it. Although, Spiked Blood had to give him some credit. Nothing about her was cuddly or approachable. To start, she was massive and spiky. She looked mean, even for a Totoma. To top it all off, her name was earned and inspired by the icicles that formed by the blood of her enemies.

Despite all this, she allowed herself to be wooed, she had to say allowed because there was no way that Spiked Blood would be won over if she didn’t already have some interest. She tried to convince herself that this was a good thing. The tundra needed new, strong blood. The Totoma buck’s Kiokote blood worried her a little, but it could’ve been worse; it could’ve been Acha or Zikwa blood. From what she’s heard, they would be far too dainty to last in these mountains she loved. It wasn’t that she didn’t like these other kin, she’s had a few amicable encounters with Zikwa and heard fun things about Acha. But this was the tundra, only the strongest can thrive.

Spiked Blood wandered around the base of this mountain, a mountain that she heard a legendary kin could reach her. She wanted her lambs to be strong and fierce from birth.

Fish stood tall and quiet, reminiscing. The obelisks had opened up a whole new world, a world she'd thought she'd long left behind. When she'd left the mountains after her grandmother's death, she did so not knowing that she could expect to never see them again. Years in the Swamp had left her homesick in a way; while she loved the swamp with its seasons and abundance, the green fertile fecundity that oozed 'round your heels wherever your stepped, the stark beauty of the mountains was breathtaking. Always had been, always would be. To know that she could return here whenever she liked? A gift she didn't know what she'd done to deserve.

And there were others here, too. The mountains weren't a lonely place; there were herds of Totoma who never had left. Some of them feared her, or distrusted her for her glowing eyes, her ability to shapeshift, and the sheer size of her. Others welcomed her for the same reasons. And still more welcomed her because despite all the changes she'd undergone, she was still her grandmother's kin, and the venerable doe's name was whispered legend 'round these parts. All she'd accomplished on her own, and she was still seen as the product of her bloodline.

She liked that. Leave it to a Totoma tribe to put you in your place and remind you where you came from. She listened to the soft pattering of falling snow, the crunch of hooves. Coming closer? Yes, for her eagle- not her eagle-shape, the ghostly bird that you could see if you looked askance at her- but her actual flesh-and-blood eagle mantled her snow-flecked wings and noisily rose to the sky. She turned, not looking at the bird, but at the approaching stranger. Horns, spikes, nasty whip-tail; the doe meant business, and carried the weaponry to inflict it if necessary.

"So," she said, her voice booming against the snowfall. "You look like you have something on your mind, stranger. I think it's me you're looking for."

cashmeresky wrote:

An intimidating figure and their eagle familiar emerged in her eye-line. Spiked Blood didn't know what she expected when she heard about a legendary Totoma, but the impressive doe before her was definitely legend incarnate. Tall, a strong frame, and a big voice to follow. The most embodiment specimen of Totoma aspirations. The doe's presence inspired a sense of reverence, but Spiked Blood also took comfort in her size and apparent strength. If anyone was going to help her lambs, of course it would be this kin before her.

"Yes, I do believe I'm looking for you." Spiked Blood continued to approach the doe, stopping at a respectful distance, "My name is Spiked Blood. How may I address you?" She wasn't used to formal language, but considering she was going to ask for blessings, if there were to be a time for formalities, it would be now.

Scaramouche Fandango wrote: ↑Sun Oct 20, 2024 11:05 pm