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*   -    /    booki     ! 

/   you can do ittt

/   get  UP  bro.  we  gotta  cook.

*    /    chomp

* h-Hey Baka!!

@fatebreak       thank you,  you’re so sweet.  [she feels the need to jest,  just a bit.  meeting his mockery was never a challenge for her, though it resulted to arguments——and her often losing them. the lioness was not afraid to bare her fangs.     but not now,     Her antics had to wait.  she was representing her glorious country,         the house of the infamous roaring lion——standing proud amongst the infamous faces of noble birth.]     you look lovely.  [it’s whispered, her frame leaning towards his  as if sharing a secret meant only for their ears.  that was how she was.      sarcastic in one moment and loving in the next.    he did look extraordinary, though.  as much as she refuses to admit——truthfully.  she could not deny facts]

@fatebreak           you don’t sound so enthusiastic.   [mauve shaded eyes are elsewhere. a look of disinter within them as she stands before the sea of black and gold.    banners of a roaring lion waved high——representing crowne in all her valiant glory]  at least pretend you are happy to see me 

@fatebreak    no—!   [aside from the faint sounds of bird wings, there was silence.  golden eyes are wide,    constricted in terror.   she’s reaching as if her distance would save the poor deer.      somewhere, in the large guard she has made for herself.    a soldier had released their breakfast.   even tula, her personal healer, could not stand this vile yet merciful act——and she has seen more than just broken bones]     you have started a \war\ with them.  [she speaks of history again,  not of which she has truly seen.   the only war that has ever happened in her time was when the beasts came from the sea,    and waged their plague upon land——it felt wrong.  the first time she had seen a white stag,       and it was killed,  already found lame.    white stags only showed their faces to kings and queens——perhaps she was cursed as well]     

@fatebreak     [ it’s cruel to stand and stare, with a face so void of emotion.  the voice and ronal had always been at odds, silently warring within her own body which became a mere shell——a vessel.   the white stag was something sacred,  valued by the treemen. it was seen as a bad omen to kill them.     they were the last thing of history,  with the beowulfs and their dragons gone.   yet,  the poor creature would die anyway.   it’s left leg torn, bone sprouting away from its rightful place.   blood staining the otherwise ivory coat.  it’s cries alone was gut wrenching.   even the strongest of the vanguard turned their faces away. but the empress remained,  staring deep in its eyes]        ..  you would place a curse on yourself,  should it’s blood find your blade