Rejection ::

OBSESSION love in cold blood ... Kriemhild, the stone of E'leond; the unmoving facet of the forest whose gaze was colder than the mountains and her smile more sinister than the encumbering abyss.  Days prior, she had betrayed the rumours of her character as she stared stunned and bemused at the falling stars that had rained from the sky in a relentless shower.  She had stood, maw agape, eyes wide with fear as alien creatures scattered from the shells of their protective stones.  She had not been alone.  Others, too, stood onlooking in confusion and panic; they questioned the creatures that seemed to have forgotten their place, their motives, their origin's.  Did they harbour ill-intent towards the herds of this world?  Was it their purpose to overtake their humble beginnings?  Would they soon bow before these celestial entities? Ivory brow knitted with the overwhelming stir of contemplations as she moved among the trees like a spectral wraith waltzing with otherworldly elegance.  Feathers trailed behind her, vivid and gleaming against the settling night that had bickered with the day, eventually leading to its inevitable conquest.  She had a preference towards these hours where the predators were scarce and she could have a moment's respite without the needs of the herd overwhelming her.  Here, she was capable of breathing, of relenting her political guise for a more relaxed pose. She stopped, frozen, hoof risen towards her breast as if stricken by Medusa's fervent curse.  Head jolted up as the sound of rustling brush permeated the air thick now with uneasy tension that reverberated throughout her flesh.  Run.  The pressing urge warned her; the call, unyielding.  Kriemhild remained stalwart, brazen, as she approached the silhouette that had managed to wander its way into her wood.  A smile, a jackal's grin, coiled before it would fade at the realization that it was but a lamb come among the thicket of wolves.  "Are you lost, child?"  She would beckon, calling out towards the ebony figure who seemed darker than the night itself.  "These woods are quite... treacherous."