Arsynia,
Lioness of Prideless
Played by dusk

arsynia tollaire.

Arsynia Tollaire had become the cave-dweller, shackled to the chains of the mountains and fettered to the winding, veinous caves that threaded underneath its mighty, unbending peaks. Her broken leg had been wrapped haphazardly, fashioned together with the long strands of algae and mosses of the stalactites that reached down like spindling fingers from the wet ceiling above. The ceaseless drip, drip, drip of the dampness of the cavern as it descended from the tips of those ancient stalactites had become a white noise, numb along the fringes of her ears where once it had been incessant and unyielding. Arsynia tugged at the makeshift, rudimentary wrap around her leg, tying it tight enough now that it would not move, extending outward so it remained in place. She'd slowly begun to walk again, relying alone on the three of her legs that remained unwounded and strong, though even their soreness had been enough to down the Tollaire Matriarch.

She lingered near the edge of the river where she could tend to her wounds, lapping at the water before dipping her wounded paws and shoulders into its icy cold depths. The water here was fresh but bitterly cold, and Arsynia had relied mostly on grooming herself to keep warm rather than submerging herself in the swift-moving, shallow river. And beyond the occasional visit of her family as they nursed her wounds, she had been left completely alone; and yet, as she heard Volcan's steps above the soft bubbling of the river, she could not help but feel the approaching woman a mere ghost. “Bold of you to travel so deep into the mountain,” she began, a hoarseness in her voice where once there had been an unyielding boldness, a strength untested. Now, Arsynia felt thoroughly defeated.

@Volcan
Art by AleTie