Post by Saphira on Mar 13, 2009 0:47:22 GMT -5
Name: Miya
Age: Unknown
Race: Werecat
Appearance: Standing at a mere 5'2", Miya is by no means tall in stature. However, for one who wishes to avoid the eyes of others, her stature befits her well. For all that she is irregular in outward appearance, avoidance and being unnoticeable comes easily to the young werecat. While in her humanoid form, Miya looks like a young girl of about fourteen or fifteen years of age. The reality of the matter, however, is that no one really knows how old she is. Her build is athletic and toned, with the definition of muscles but not in overabundance. Instead she has a lithe and graceful way to moving, as though she is still the embodiment of feline grace, speed and strength. Her chest and hips are in accordance with one another, but as she looks young neither of these are overtly prominent. Her hands and feet are smaller, a size six shoe would be the modernized sizing for her feet, her hands are not unnaturally small but they are small still.
Miya's hair reaches down to mid-back, perhaps just past a tad. Her hair itself seems to have a life all its own, silken and straight, with her initial bangs reaching to mid-face, then the next layer reaching past the collarbone. However, the most unusual thing about her hair is not the texture or the lengths--it is the coloration. Mostly her hair is a dark, jet black. The hair is also streaked with white, though, the white being most notable in her bangs near the front, and then throughout the rest of her hair, streaked where it may be. There is one of her defining features which belies she is less than human or elf, one which her kin usually choose to refrain from displaying while in their alter form--her feline ears. When in her humanoid shape, Miya doesn't revert her ears to that of the normal expectation. Instead, two huge black-tipped-white feline ears protrude notably from her head, swiveling expressively depending on her moods and feelings. The left ear even has a golden hoop through it, one which doesn't disappear in her feline form, but shifts over into both. This might imply magical implications, and if one guesses it does, one would be correct. The earring is set with a black obsidian jewel which is a 'luck charm'. It was a gift passed down to her, a very ancient one, which seems to bless the werecat with uncanny good luck and fortune. It never comes off, therefore, and seems to literally be unable to be removed from her ear-likely part of the reason she shifts with her feline ears intact.
The gift that accompanied the gold earring is also older in nature. Two gold bands that seem also unable to come off are set with many smaller jewels. Each jewel is capable of storing power, and can be used in case of emergency or energy running out. Every chance the werecat gets, she stores power in the bands, knowing that one day, a time will come where she may need them. Her only other visible oddities are her claws, eyes and tail. The tail is the other most notable attribute of her difference. Long and tipped with white at the end, it is as expressive as her ears, always waving this way and that, or twitching when she's excited, anxious or irate. It, like her ears, matches the coloration of her black-streaked-white hair. The claws are purposely kept as well as her fangs, yet somehow she manages not to scratch herself or others without meaning to. Likely this is born of long practice in the matter, or due to her grace and aptitude for eye and hand coordination. She has pads and callouses on her feet, and is often apt to go barefoot due to this, not beyond utilizing her claws on either hands or feet in a tussle. Nor is she afraid to go feral in behavior and use her sharp fangs, be it in humanoid or feline form.
Miya's face is too young to be called beautiful, but the werecat has a certain wild and exotic look to her that would define her as above average at least--even pretty to some. It's her eyes that draw in the most attention on her face, though. They are an astonishing emerald green with golden flecks, very feline in coloration. It is more the aspect of seeing too much wisdom in the eyes of a girl who looks to be no more than fifteen which confuses and captures people when looking into the werecat's eyes--if Miya ever stays still long enough for them to actually get a good look, that is. Her complexion is very pale, considering all the time spent out in the bright sunlight, and she barely even seems to tan.
Miya doesn't believe in wearing armor, as it simply weighs her down when she's attempting to use speed and agility over strength. Though she's blessed with the werecat's ability to heal faster than normal and the uncanny strength, she uses tactics based mostly on a very wolfish style of fighting: dodge in, dodge out. If they can't hit her then she can't be wounded, while wounding them. Therefore, her usual attire consists of leather and soft cotton-like material. Her main ensemble is best described in detail such as follows:
She wears another bracelet of sorts, where she keeps three packets of herbs for herself. One is to induce sleep. The other is to nullify pain. The final one is to aid in faster healing. They are small but potent, with enough for three doses a packet. She always makes sure they are replenished and don't run out. Her lower belly up to her chest is exposed, for she doesn't have any shame in showing bare skin, lacking the formal modesty of human or elf. For her it is airy and comfortable to be this way, allowing for greatest movement. On her upper half she wears an interesting ensemble. Two leather straps buckle around top and bottom of her chest, keeping the material in this area taunt and supportive. It is stylized to function as a modern day 'sports bra', giving the support needed without the constriction of some similarly worn contraptions women who are better off endowed see fit to wear. The material in the middle is almost orange in coloration, leather on the outside and yet soft cotton sewn on the inside for greater comfort. The material that covers the upper half of her arms is black, with another band of brown leather that buckles up at the end of it. This seems to hold no real purpose that can be seen. The key words in this statement are 'that can be seen'. There is a small pouch hidden on the inside of each of these inner sleeves for concealment of anything she should so choose to hide in there. The final part is white cotton with a blue trim sewn on it, and the large, attaching hood. The hood has an obvious use--she can pull it up to conceal her ears whenever she should wish it, and it keeps the winds from her face.
The bottom half of her attire is much more simplistic but seems to match fittingly. The same black material as the upper arms of her top is underneath a short, leather skirt. It seems to cling to the skin and yet be flexible all at once, keeping any unsightly things from becoming seen. The brown leather skirt has a lighter leather trim and sturdy belt. In this belt there are two sheathes attached, decorated with runes to keep the blades automatically sharpened and cleaned when they are returned to the sheath. The blades themselves can only be drawn by Miya, blades made for her by an elven woman whom she keeps secret from others. The blades are silvery-blue, and along the lengths are intricate designs. The hilts are bound in black material that is comfortably conformed to fit Miya's hands alone. They are actually fighting knives, the design made so that the blades are not straight, but curvy. The part of the hilts that is not held is of a silver dragon on each, showing the maker's liking for dragons and her true fondness for the craft which she does, and does better than any. They are Miya's greatest treasures besides her gold earring and bands, and she keeps them close to her at all times. The length of the blade is from her wrist to her elbow, the hilts fit her small hands to perfection.
Miya wears no jewelry save her earring and bands. She also can be seen going barefoot, but when she does wear boots they are sturdy black ones, made from the hide of some indistinguishable creature. These boots have obviously been made for her, for in her human form her claws have room to stick out, and they are snug, allowing again for the greatest maneuverability. Inside the boots are sheathes for smaller knives, two of them, which are designed tp be thrown. She prefers not to have to use them, but in a bind they come in quite handy. When it's cold, she will wear fleece lined black pants, and a matching jacket, along with black gloves that reach up to the elbows, and suitable boots. However, she does not like the cold, and more than often will be found in feline form if she must endure it.
In feline form, Miya looks as one would expect given her humanoid form. She is a black and white werecat, with the black being the most prominent color. Her fur is longer and she is a smaller sized cat, just as she is a smaller person in height. Her cat form, however, is compact and muscular, and her eyes remain the same emerald flecked gold. The white on her is her paws, tail tip, chest, muzzle and ear tips. The rest is dark black. Her tail has longer fur than the rest of her, which is medium length in reality compared with the truly long haired cats. Her claws are a clear white, and her nose and pads are a light pink. White whiskers stick out of the sides of her muzzle, and her face, for a cat, is quite expressive seeming.
Personality: A werecat is really quite complex in aspects of their persona. Miya is no exception to this general rule, but seemingly in some aspects of what is defined as a werecat's personality, she differs marginally. Overall it would take years to completely figure out any werecat, for though they share similar personality traits from which to form a basic assumption of similarities about, no two can be known by simply knowing the character of one. Just as people differ, so do werecats. Miya is in every sense the epitome of werecat persona embodied, but her quirks surely define her difference from her kin, as one will soon learn.
Everyone knows that werecats are mysterious in nature, often doing the unexpected and making predictions that are best to pay attention to. They generally tend not to speak to everyone, but rather a selected few. Miya may be mysterious to all outward appearances, but she lacks the aspect of remaining quiet save for around a chosen few that she chooses to speak with. Instead, her curiosity prompts her to be quite open in asking many questions. Perhaps this only leads one to assume she wants to know everything about everything, and this would be true. The werecat saps up knowledge like a tree dying of thirst would sap up any water after a drought. She is young enough, as werecats go, but this isn't saying too much since no one knows how to define werecat age. It is thought that they are immortal beings, and since they do not bond such as the dragons go, this is very likely the case.
Miya herself preferred to take the lonely road, yet where she took interest in large events she would get involved, unable to stay away from the important things that were occurring in the world in which she lived. It seemed that she was not, after all, able to stay away from society as much as she might have preferred to do so. Instead, due to some integral part that seems to be inborn into all of her kin, she was always around when something big was going on, or about to happen. Not only was she there, but often no one knew she was, and if they did, she was often right in the center of it all, not wanting to miss a thing.
Her curiosity is outmatched only, perhaps, by her instinctively feral and fearless nature. If there is a fight she will take the side of the righteous and just, but she will not shirk from the being right in the fray of things, duel knives flashing glints of silver-blue in the sunlight. Thus, she learned to fight and has her own stylized way of doing so. It seems to her that what one can not touch, one can not injure or kill. So swift is she that rarely does she ever sustain more than bruises and shallow scratches if she knows when to replenish her energy and when to take relief from lengthy battling. She is wise to the ways of battle, therefore, and even though her stature is small and misleading, her uncanny swiftness and style baffle and subdue even the largest of opponents--so long as the opponent is not a dragon, that is.
Miya is not beyond giving into her feline instincts. She will just as easily hunt and kill mice and birds to eat in feline form as she will dig into human food--preferring meat, usually--with gusto. She seems to have an unexplainable and large appetite, a bottomless pit who will gladly stuff her face when a good banquet is provided. At the same time, she goes with eating hardly anything if need be, and seems to need to drink less than many would. She makes do with what is available, something she has likely learned need be done from experience of years long past. She will often stay in feline form and make use of the smaller side of her, as requirements for food and water are so much less when one can be sated with a mouse or a much smaller portion of meat. In this she is also a valuable asset to any team, for she never seems to really drain their rations and yet remains fighting fit for any and all occasions. In colder areas she actually seems to prefer her werecat feline form, as she prefers clothing that doesn't constrict her or weigh on her ability to move as she would like. Like any true cat, in colder areas the double layer of fur provides the ability to keep in much needed body heat, and makes for easier travel when one need not carry around a ton of warm clothing.
Miya is adept at mixing appropriate herbs for healing, and her magic as a werecat, though not as strong as some, is at least adept in the area of healing. She is not old enough to have both strong healing magics and battle magics both, and at best her battle magic matches that of a regularly trained elf. Since she prefers to fight without its aid, she prefers to know basics such as shielding her mind, which she has taken great cares to develop the best of her ability to do so. She utilizes the gems on her bracelets to the fullest, never using them unless it is absolutely necessary. Over the years she has packed so much of her magical strength into them that it is unlikely they will run out as she replenishes it at every chance she gets, even if it is only a little. Though she seems fearless she has her own weaknesses, like any.
Miya doesn't like to be confined. She prefers knowing that there is always a route of escape, and if she has to be in a tight spot, she wants to know there is more than one way out, or that she won't become, in a sense, claustrophobic. Being captured and caged or tied up is amongst the worst of her fears. She fears death, as does any, but not in the sense that it has really ever stopped her from doing what she pleases. She is cautious and confident in her style of fighting, and her ability to gauge when she is tiring, when she needs to heal and in her ability to heal herself. Werecats already heal faster than an average human or even an elf. This added advantage has perhaps made her a little over confident, but to tell her this she would simply flash her fangs in a grin and pretend that you had never suggested such a thing. Still, she also has her biggest true phobia: drowning. The thought of drowning consumes her with an all powerful fear and she has often had nightmares about it, though she would not really speak of it to anyone. She never admits her weaknesses or fears, not to anyone. A werecat simply never does such a thing.
Miya has never really been one for prophesying in years gone past. She has done her best to remain mostly on her own, and though she has had something to say on a few instances and it did in fact have real bearing on those people's lives. It may have very well saved a couple of those who bothered to heed her words. However, compared to others of her kin she hasn't done it so much. Perhaps it's because though she is loyal to a cause, she has yet to find a person she cares to be loyal to. She will pledge allegiance to no man or elf, and will come and go as she pleases. However, she is a great asset to have at one's back on one's side, and no one ever really tries to get a werecat to do as they tell them. They are as a whole usually rather an independent sort, unless they choose a specific human by whose side they stay. Miya has yet to find said human companion, and is less apt to do so than most.
One who didn't know her well would say that this particular werecat looked out mainly for herself. It is true that Miya does this, to a fair degree. However, she does prefer some people over others, and while she has made a few she would call friend and yet many more whom she only considered acquaintances, she is at least devout about sticking by the causes she chooses to fight for and has often been seen aiding those she favors in a fight. It is best not to get on her bad side, however, for Miya can and will not forgive if the offense is enough for her to hold a grudge. Werecats have long memories, and one does not want to be in their memory as a foe or someone they don't like. It's very hard to get into this particular werecat's bad books, but she has a certain type of people she clearly avoids, and while she fights for those people's sides sometimes, it is clear that she is less likely to aid them in battle than someone she prefers. It seems she will have the back of only those she likes, and perhaps, if she feels like it, assist very lightly to those she does not--if they should be so lucky and she is in a fair mood.
Miya is often vague about what she says, which can be quite annoying to those dealing with her in a matter of getting information about herself or her past. She doesn't like to talk about herself, she likes being secretive as all her kin do, and one of the surest ways to annoy her or to get her toying with you is to keep asking questions she won't answer. If a person is foolish enough to try and pry into the secrets another has told her, she will simply be vaguer than usual, and then either ignore that person if they persist, or simply leave. One should be warned of her moods from the ears and tail in her humanoid form, and its best to pay close attention to the feline body language in feline form. It is never wise to push something as unpredictable as a werecat, as you never know what they might do if pushed too far.
Miya seems to have a sixth sense for knowing when someone is lying, or being less than truthful. If it's important she will be quite blatant in speaking her mind. If it is not, she could care or less, because she has enough that she keeps to herself as is. As a rule she doesn't like being lied to unless there is a good reason for it, though she admires thieves for some reason--perhaps because it takes more talent than most deeds that are considered to be wrongful or evil. In fact, she loves to steal herself, when the chance presents itself, if it's from the opposing side. Since werecats are so adept at sneaking around without being seen, its something she does whenever the mood strikes her. She hasn't really got any other underlying darkness about her, save for an uncanny love for battling with her knives. It gives her a chance to use them and to do something for what she believes to be a just cause. She doesn't like long range weapons and because she's so quick she has rarely used a shield. Still, she carries two daggers for throwing and is very adept at hitting her mark in emergency situations. Plus, they're good for hunting birds who tend to fly away--everything else she simply leaps upon and brings down with her two main battle knives.
Miya can't be said to have just one, true hobby. She enjoys anything that involves the use of artistic skill, showing a lot of attention to detail. This ranges in variety from drawing and painting to crafting weapons with intricate designs on the hilts and blades--much like her own. It is quite apparent she doesn't have the elves' love of nature. She eats meat and though she does value life she is not one to squander over things such as killing in battle, or what her next meal will be. Nor does she sing things from wood, and yet she particularly enjoys wood carving. A werecat does not own much in the world, usually. What they do own the often treasure closely. A set of lovely small reed pipes which were made by an old friend is something she treasures, as are her blades. Her earring and her bracelet is another. However, besides these things any belongings of hers are stored in special safekeeping places known to few but herself. These are like small hordes of personal treasures accumulated over her lifetime, and they are most often gifts or her own pieces of artistic expressions.
Werecats relationships are not something anyone really and truly knows about. It is merely assumed they have relationships because there are more of them born periodically. Miya herself has never been interested in another werecat or any other species. Perhaps because there have always been so few of them and each werecat is so wrapped up in its own life and the lives of those that interest them, as well as events; it merely seems to not happen that often that another werecat is born. Hence they remain a rarity and it is likely that they always will be. Still, Miya knows enough to know that males at least pique her interest, when they are easy on the eyes and have an interesting personality and outlook, that is! It is never one without the other, however. Perhaps Miya can be called shallow whereas such matters are involved, but perhaps it's also because there are so few of her own kind and it is likely that those are the ones she'd truly be bonded to in the ending outcome of things.
Miya does not like evil, but it would be untruthful to say that she doesn't believe that good can exist without it. Furthermore, she doesn't in actuality hate any of the races that are in existence. The only ones she truly has a disliking for are the Shades, since the Ra'zac are thought to be nor more. The Shades she believes are the true meaning of evil. It can't even be said that she dislikes Galbatorix, which while some find appalling, others without biased judgment might be said to understand. She believes that everyone is molded the way they are by reason of their lives and the personalities they were born with. That they can not necessarily always fight themselves or what they become, and so slip into darkness and either grow to like the power they obtain through it, or grow accustomed to it, or to like it. She has a unique way of viewing her world, and she cares not what other people might think of her for it. She merely accepts that they do not understand from whence she comes, and therefore most never even know of her feelings or thoughts on the matter. She rather seems to like Urgals, having shown an interest in their society, beliefs and particular codes of honor. This, too, not many have ever known.
In the ending outcome of things, it can only be said that Miya is as mysterious and as much an oddity as any werecats have been and ever will be. For better or worse, she is as she is, possessing the looks of a fifteen year old girl, and the wisdom of far too many years gone by. Still, she believes one never stops learning and does not pretend to have the belief that there is nothing left for her to learn. She is subject to be willing to change--something that has likely helped her to survive as well as she has--and is quite adaptable. Good to have on one's side, bad to have against one, Miya would take more than the span of a few human lifetimes for anyone to really get to know.
History: The history of a werecat who has seen many years would take longer to tell than there is time for the telling. Miya may not be so old as most, or even many. However, her history is certainly much longer than the lifespans of several human beings. Therefore, as much as it can be summarized it will be recorded here. The following is a summary of Miya's history, as much of it as pertains to anything of importance:
Miya can't remember her true parents. After she was weaned of her mother's milk, she grew up in a secretive place of which she can no longer remember the true location of. It was a strange thing, but after some years went past she decided that it did not matter so much. She looked the part of an eight year old child when she was already adept at fending for herself, before that much of her time was spent in her alter form, living in a form that was far more adaptable and suitable to her needs.
Before she turned eight, however, she lived where there were more of her kin, many of them young and in the process of learning. It wasn't until she was eight years in human years that she headed out on her own, and so it was that she was raised by other werecats, though her own mother left, for reasons unknown to Miya. Really most werecats didn't have much knowledge of their parents, and they rarely were seen with others of their own kind, so it was no strange thing. She learned to hunt, learned to fend for herself, and stayed in feline form for the duration of this. She developed telepathically though not vocally, for that was something she would come into on her own, along with adapting to her other form, and shifting when she was ready. This, of course, took many years to happen. The werecat body would grow at a normal rate until it hit ten years old. Then, it would stop and age abnormally in a fashion that no one could know of, remaining looking whatever age they chose to for the duration of their immortality-not unlike elves in that retrospect, choosing their own forms.
Miya did not seem to possess the ability to stay put in any set location. As soon as she felt emboldened enough, she set out alone, as most of her kin were apt to do. She never left with a set destination in mind, rather, she traveled as she would, where she would. It was quite obvious from the outset that colder climates did not appeal to her. However, if some inexplicable thing drove her towards lands that were covered in snow, she would go there, even if she knew not why at the time. Always it was something going on that drove her there--usually it was a war or some important event that she attended in secret or by right of what she was and how those around her viewed her and her kind. Especially among the elves were they revered, and it was in the company of that race Miya often found herself keen to linger most.
Miya was not present when the wars between elves and dragons were occurring. Nor was she present for the dragon and rider pact made between elves or humans. However, she was drawn nearer by the time of Galbatorix's uprising, inexplicably drawn as always to one of the largest turns of events in the history of Alagaesia. She battled on the side of the riders, believing Galbatorix was in the wrong even as she pitied him for the loss of his dragon and going mad. As always, she kept this fact to herself, knowing that no one would likely understand how a man so evil might be pitied. She could admit, at least, that what he'd done in reaction was inexcusable. Given the chance, she would have killed him, though swiftly and mercifully. It was his dragon, Shuriken, that she had no wish to kill in doing so. She knew that the dragon had been forced to join forces with the man, and that she did not wish for his death, even if it were necessary to put an end to Galbatorix. Still, she fought by the rider's sides, until all but one was wiped out. That secret, known only to those such as herself and the elves, never left her mouth.
There were wars all throughout Alagaesia, for the Varden were formed, and there were many that were in opposition to the dark king--many more than even the current time. Wherever she could find some event or something was going on, Miya was drawn there. Often she would choose a side without even making mention of it to those in charge, showing up randomly in battle, knifes flashing and fangs bared. Other times she would not be seen aiding at all, staying in feline form and meddling with the other side where she saw fit. It was in this manner that she fought alongside the Varden, alongside Brom, even, and alongside any who dared oppose Galbatorix. She was flexible to change, however, and when changes occurred that involved sides being switched...unlike some she accepted the newcomers with readiness.
For whatever reason, Miya was fascinated by the urgals. Here was a race into which instinct had bred the need and desire for battle and to fight. In themselves she knew they were not evil. Under cruelty and threats from Galbatorix they served him, only to join the Varden when the time came that they realized Galbatorix meant to betray them. They merely wanted land and to live as they were made to be. She could see no evil in such a thing. They were not without honor and not without their way of life. They were brave and fearless, and she respected that for she saw in them traits she herself bore. She would have trusted an urgal faster than an elf, for elves do not always say as they mean, and urgals are honor bound and say precisely what they mean to say. In this affinity some would question her, but she told them nothing of her thoughts, once again retaining her usual secrecy on the matter.
There were long periods in time were Miya simply wandered, content to be alone and see what she could see, learn what she could learn. She developed a habit of asking many questions of those she met, which many were perfectly all right with answering, seeing that she was something not of the three main races of Alagaesia. Some recognized her immediately for what she was, while others did not. She especially liked to ask children, of her own age look and younger. They were very apt to answer about anything they knew, and if they did not know, they were always easy to make requests from about asking and finding out from those who did! She likely made more temporary friends amongst those who looked her age than most, for that was where she most easily fit in and could remain as she was. Still, with her ears and tail, eyes, fangs and claws, there was no mistaking she was different--only her age appearance made those around her feel more at ease. Perhaps this is why she continues to retain said appearance.
Just about every werecat in existence knew of the remaining three eggs. Many made it their business to go see for themselves, while others simply knew through word of kin, and because they simply knew. Therefore, when the eggs were stolen, and when Saphira's egg was carted between Varden and Elfkind, they were also privy to this knowledge. Miya was one of those who went to see the eggs for themselves, in feline form. The elves knew of the werecat's presence, and also that they would know, as it was within their species ability to know of such things. Probably it had all been foretold before it happened. However, for whatever reason, werecats did not alter the future--they merely foretold it, as well as information about the past at times. Miya had not known of it before it was already being set in motion. She'd been drawn there and stayed longer than most, along with Maud, another of her kin. However, only Maud knew of who she was, she did not interfere.
Miya spent less time among the dwarves than the other races, but it is not to say that she didn't spend time amongst them. They took in the Varden, and so it was that Miya ended up battling side by side with some of them, once again keeping her presence mostly hidden from them, while aiding them where she saw fit. If she was fond of any of them, they would never know it, for she never chose to speak to those ones. However, those ones she would suddenly appear by and fight beside, much to their surprise and delight. When told not to say a word of it, most knew enough to be silent. You tended to listen when a werecat asked you not to do something--especially if it was your hide they'd just helped protect or save! During her time with the dwarves, she studied their gods with curiosity, though taking on no preference of her own to what she believed. Still, a bit of it rubbed off on her, and she found she tended towards the belief that everything did not simply come to be on its own. Yet, as it was, there was no point to her in thinking about this. When she died, she would die, and then she would find out who had the right of things in that matter.
Later, when Saphira's egg was lost, she was unawares, for she left for a time. However, eventually she felt again that something big was to happen, and ended up seeing Eragon for the first time with his dragon when he entered Ellesmera for his training with Glaedr and his rider, Oromis, thought to be the last remaining rider alive, save Brom, who was dragonless. However, she also learned of Brom's death. It was not possible to know precisely everything that went on, werecat or not. Usually it was simply that a werecat would feel they needed to be somewhere and be there. Nothing more, nothing less. They did not usually know why they went there, just that they were drawn there by a power that seemed not their own. So it was with Miya. Eragon and Saphira likely did not even register her seeing them, though she suspected they might have felt her presence and mistaken her for Maud, whom they had seen, or Solumbum, whom she had also met. She'd also met his companion, Angela. Both werecats were, however, alongside a partner. She was not, and left after observing the newest rider and dragon for herself. However, she was to meet them soon again.
When the Varden rose up to battle and headed for Surda, one of the last remaining opposing kingdoms to Galbatorix--whom she'd also fought with before--she had yet another feeling. Now, she is headed for Surda, once again drawn by her unseen force of will, to see what she might, and do what she may.
Roleplaying example: KREATER
It was amazing how much could change in what seemed so short a period of time. There had been casualties, there had been losses, and there had been survivors who had lived to see it all and tell the tale. Survivors who didn’t know whether or not to consider themselves lucky to be alive, or wondered why things had had to play out the way they had. In the end of it all, they could only wonder: was it the end? Or would the scene reiterate itself in another horrifying downfall of darkness? No one really knew the answer. But everyone prayed that it would never, ever occur again.
Crusader, the White Tiger who was bonded to the Holy Trainer Katoria Draconfyre, had decided that perhaps it was time to spend a bit of time thanking God they had made it through. They had lived through the horrors--them and Kat’s second bonded, Syraia the Snow Leopard. Yes, they’d lived and they’d seen, and the Tiger’s own faith may have been set in stone, but it had made Kat seriously start to rethink her own life, and Syraia was visibly shaken still. So, they had headed to a quiet place--a place where they could be nearer to God, as Crusader put it. Away from the things of man, and out into nature. However, he hadn’t wanted to venture too far. So Emni Fields had been the place of choice.
Syraia was busy meditating on her own thoughts, lying in the grass with her head on her paws. Crusader didn’t wonder if the young creature might not fall asleep, for she’d seemed a little tired as of late. However, that wasn’t the Tiger’s main concern. It was Kat. For whatever reasons, the girl he’d bonded to had become reclusive and quiet--more so than usual, at least. She didn’t talk much, and he rarely ever saw her pray within the past two weeks. Something was wrong with her, even if the Holy creature couldn’t possibly know what was up, as the half-Neko girl kept it within the confines of her own mind. However, part of the reason for this trip out into the middle of nowhere was intended for him to speak to her. Nothing was solved that was bottled up deep inside a person, left to rot there like so many discarded pieces of food.
Kat stared off into the distance. It was mid-morning, and the sun was bright and warm. There wasn’t supposed to be any rains for the next couple of days, and they had brought food and drink, even though there was a cool river nearby that ran through the field. She liked being out in the open like this. It gave her time to think, even if the thoughts she had been thinking lately were dark. How could God let something like that happen? Creatures dead, bonds broken-she’d almost lost Syraia herself in the battle. It had been a scare she’d not cared to ever repeat again. Would she have to? Bottled up memories of herself before she’d bonded to her two Holy cats a couple of months ago had resurfaced. She never talked much about her life before that-she didn’t want to remember, in truth, what she’d been--what she’d almost become. It was too unpleasant to think of, and she’d come to Kreater to leave that past behind. Now that it tugged and nagged at her, though, and after almost losing Syraia, and perhaps Crusader, too? She could almost feel alone for the first time since she’d taken them that day from Rising. A feeling she had hoped to leave behind even as she took them with her.
*Something is ailing you, my sister.*
The deep yet rumbling voice of Crusader cut through her thoughts, and she could only glance over, eyes guilty as she did so. The big cat was smart, even for all of his three or so years of age. He never seemed to miss a thing, and she had not shielded her thoughts from him before this. How could she keep doing so? Eventually, she would have to let her walls down. Staring up at the sky momentarily, as though searching for something there, she finally looked back at the Tiger, sighing as though weary, though she wasn’t tired.
“It is as if God himself mocks my immortal soul...” she began, settling herself comfortably in the grass, mindful of her pack of things next to her. The breeze blew gently, a relief from the warmth of the sun overhead. The day was unbelievably nice today, almost as if what had occurred, never had.
*God does not mock his children-why do you feel he mocks you, Kat?* The question was full of concern, and Kat gentled her reply, not wanting to be harsh where she didn’t mean to be. Instead, she tempered what she said, reminding herself that of all things she ought not to be harsh with either him or Syraia. Perhaps they had suffered too, and perhaps she was being too self-centered. So, it was only fair to tell Crusader what was going on in her mind. He and Syraia were the closest things to her on this planet. Blocking them out, like she did everyone else...it just didn’t seem right. And so, “these past few weeks—due to them, and to what happened here in Kreater, I’ve begun to remember the past I wish to forget. I’ve begun to remember things about myself, and question everything about who I am. I thought I had gotten over it, but apparently I haven’t. It’s as if these wounds won’t seem to heal. There's far too much that time has not been able to erase..."