Octo Tentakel

she laughs at fear, she does not shy away from the sword.

As soon as Rán left the castle, she unhooked the chain that kept her fur on her shoulders and was tempted to throw the expesive black bear in the bin. But that would only anger Ranaan, fuck the gods. She had took it off during tea, but off course she had to wear it in the castle because, she didn't want to look trashy. But now she was outside, the sun only felt hotter on her skin then ever. She would draw a cold bath when she was home.

Rán shook the pelt for a once and she really wished Brann was here to carry it, but she had excused him, saying she was a big girl and could take care of herself. His efforts were better wasted on making sure Ve stayed put. Now she just had to wait on her coach to carry her home and then she would be on her merry way. She waved a hand towards her face, trying desperatly to cool down just a bit. Stupid royal.. stupid castle. The end of this visit couldn't come soon enough.

into the fray

The quiver rattles against her side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement she eats up the ground. She cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.

face your demons

He heard something about the governess of Norwyn visiting the king and Octavian couldn’t help it when he curiously waited for her to enter the castle. He just wanted to know if she was as he heard she was. The governess came to Ishgard with her sister and rumour had it that her brother that was also here, wasn’t supposed to be there at the same time. Now, of course Octavian wasn’t sure what was actually true about the whole thing, but the only thing he remembered was that they all had weird ass names and quite temperamental. He wasn’t in time to see her when she entered the castle, but when she left he followed after her in silence. His years of being guard and being trained by Wulfric making him no more than a shadow.

With a hand resting on top of his sword he came to a stop next to her, watching her struggle with the fur. ”That seems comfortable. Did you wear it inside?” The corner of his mouth was tugged upwards into a barely noticable smile. He knew how hot it was inside the castle with the fires always burning everywhere. A thick fur pelt didn’t make it any cooler inside.

eat their hands

MONTY

she laughs at fear, she does not shy away from the sword.

Some dude kept up behind her, and before she knew it he was stending next to her, hand on his sword, talking to her. Rán looked sharply at him, eyes him up and down for a moment. And although he was taller then she was, she didn't back down from him. She was still a governess, higher in rank than this lowborn guard would ever be. That he even dared to open his mouth like that against her. She could take his tongue for that in Norwyn.

Rán looked up at him with a deadly glare. She was not amused, if he was trying to be funny. But with her neck and shoulders exposed now, she felt like she could breath again. And the air was uncomfortable warm in this stupid city with it's stupid climate. ‘‘This is fur of our patron and worth more than your measly wage for a year, guard,’’ she scoffed at him. She rolled the fur up in her arms and hugged it close to her body. ‘‘I'm sorry you are so used to this agreeable climate.’’ He probably didn't have a tough bone in his body. He never knew snow and ice like a true Ravaryn citizen should. And she had worn it in honour of Ranaan, looking as fine as a Norwyn woman should in front of the king. But he could never understand, with his simple life.

into the fray

The quiver rattles against her side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement she eats up the ground. She cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.