The North's Most Wanted [Vladimir Grimm/OPEN]

[The Pirate Queen]

The winds were picking up and the smell of the dying summer into what was now a cooling Autumn with Winter on the wing. The jezebelle was picking her way over the stones and moving at an alarming rate. This run was practices, rehearsed, a routine part of her training. She needed to be nimble and strong for the warmer weather. Her diet was likewise disciplined as she had acquired a taste for the dried kelp and the sparse vegetation that poked out around the shores. She found that the taste was bland but the sustenance provided was excellent, especial when her pilgrimage was a treacherous one. Completing her thirteenth round of training for the day, she motioned to take a break which consisted of the short run on an old path that was slightly more favorable to equine hooves, as she made way to the bridge and stood on its form and looked out over the horizon.

One could smell the sea from here, one always smelled the sea. Her heart twisted as she looked out towards the North, memorizing the land as she traced it to the Boneland, the home of her kin. The De Casientos had long despised the North for exiling them. The name had often been associated with a band of merchants, fortune tellers, navigators and star worshipers that occupied Boneland. They held favor with the crown until one day they did not. The reasoning behind the exile had never quite been clarified. Time did not heal but only deepened the hatred in the blood for the North crown and the heathen clan that was appointed to rule over the sands. Her sire talked of retribution. Of taking the desert and ruling it proudly as they saw fit. The hatred had passed to the next generation although they were born in the South.

The goldenrod minx slammed the white stone beneath her, and snorted. The Northern swine would rot in hell one day for their indulgences and their crimes against the house of De Casiento. Ysabelle had inherited the leadership of her band, despite being a lady. It was hard to think her a lady. Her frame had become sculpted like a stallion in a way on account of her training. She had proven on more than one occasion that she was a force to reckon with, and she had no problem killing. And above all, that while the De Casiento's could forgive a great many things...there was no mercy for traitors. Northern spies were everywhere. As a rule of hoof, Ysabelle made it a point to trust no one outside the De Casiento name.

The winds picked up her sandy brown main, her banner raised and waving in the zephyr. Her velvetine raised to the sky as she closed her eyes and let the winds take her spirit to new heights. Her head was narrowly carved on account of her desert heritage, her frame an average bulk a kin to a stallion with only subtle feminine hints. If did not carry herself as an intimidating figure, one might easily call her a pretty lass worth pursuing. This was meditation and planning...another form of training. The sun caused her glittery golden skin, now worked with sweat, to shine and glean and the wind was welcomed and refreshing to the touch. Thorns twitched slowly so not to show that she was alerted to anything...although, she was. Ysabelle could create silence in a flurry of sounds especially when she was actually trying to do so. She decided to wait and see what possibly threat was stupid enough to challenge her. A little action would be a nice way to call it a day.

---

WORDS: 616
TAGS: Vladimir Grimm (Chevy)/OPEN
OOC: Sorry for the wait!!