Arsynia,
Lioness of Prideless
Played by dusk
I will never be gone.
I am a scar, a report from the front lines,
a talisman, a resurrection.
A rough place on the chin of complacency.

Arsynia welcomed Erenvel's affection, breathing in her scent, so reminiscent of smoke and fire and ash. Her mane tickled her nose, a pressure against her jaw that elicited a soft purr, a softness quite unlike the brutalness that was Arsynia Tollaire. Her shoulders fell, her fears receded, her hesitancy seemed to draw back in resignation. She leaned into her sister's touch, and closed her eyes briefly. What do you propose we do then? Erenvel asked, stirring Arsynia from reveries of distant days spent toppling over her littermates and gnawing gleefully on their tails and ears. Are we to rise over time from the careful watch of others, or are we to make a stand? Arsynia had always been half-wild and half-careful. She'd held onto the belief of careful resignations, watching from afar the world unfolding in chaos so that she may find its most vulnerable spots. And yet, the young and brash wolfish girl did not sit idly by as opportunity passed, and driven by ambition and lack of experience, saw impulsive decisions sometimes equally fruitful to more cunning, thoughtful ones.

“Ideally, we wait,” she admitted, allowing a small smile to break her steeled expression, “but have any of us ever shirked at opportunity laid before us?” Would fate have awarded Smaug the Band had he not wrenched it from the paws of their enemies? Would Vermillion not have quashed their enemies over and over again had he hidden behind his borders? Arsynia wanted to be like them; she wanted to follow in the overwhelming light of her father and elder brother, but even now that seemed so unreachable.

Are there any potential allies yet? Erenvel's question recaptured the Matriarch's attention, stiffening momentarily, before relaxing into thought. “I had, but—” she began, “only one of them seems to remain. I had met two men intent on staking claims as soon as the lands settled. Both had seemed promising, but only one capable of following through, it seems.” Kaden had been Arsynia's preferred ally nonetheless, spending far more time entertaining an alliance with the man that she had with Barnabas, yet the proposition of two allies falling to one was inconvenient nonetheless. “It leaves only Kaden of the Lake,” she began again after a short pause, “his claim went unanswered, and when I challenged his caliber, he had proven a worthy opponent.” The battle had been close, and Kaden had come out the fair victor. Arsynia had not let the new King go without a scrape, however.


@Erenvel

Art by Argent