Pancakes' warning squeaks and pips drop into silence. The entire wooded area around them is equally silent - whatever creatures or beings that reside here, all must know that none are dangerous or powerful as the two that exist in this same temporal space, here and now. Or as wrathful.
"You are a Pit-thing," Illyria growls, low and dangerous and in escalating fury. In all other circumstances she would not bother. She would not deign to look at any thing that speaks to her as if she is its equal or even, to her enraged incomprehensibility, its lesser. But this is something Old and new, and Illyria would know what foe she faces.
"You are a dark and tiresome creature, something so ordinary that vermin soil your name each day without sanction. I am Illyria. I am something so old that gods themselves cannot comprehend me, nor recall the days in which I ruled. I was old when they were young. I commanded armies. I slew legions. And you would find yourself comparable."
Your power is contained, mistress, Pancakes whispers in a small and terrified voice, and you are god-king no longer. Your shell is damageable.
She commands her be silent. She will not be spoken to by this - this thing in such a manner. All creatures are beneath her and she will take them beneath her heel, as is her right.
no subject
Pancakes' warning squeaks and pips drop into silence. The entire wooded area around them is equally silent - whatever creatures or beings that reside here, all must know that none are dangerous or powerful as the two that exist in this same temporal space, here and now. Or as wrathful.
"You are a Pit-thing," Illyria growls, low and dangerous and in escalating fury. In all other circumstances she would not bother. She would not deign to look at any thing that speaks to her as if she is its equal or even, to her enraged incomprehensibility, its lesser. But this is something Old and new, and Illyria would know what foe she faces.
"You are a dark and tiresome creature, something so ordinary that vermin soil your name each day without sanction. I am Illyria. I am something so old that gods themselves cannot comprehend me, nor recall the days in which I ruled. I was old when they were young. I commanded armies. I slew legions. And you would find yourself comparable."
Your power is contained, mistress, Pancakes whispers in a small and terrified voice, and you are god-king no longer. Your shell is damageable.
She commands her be silent. She will not be spoken to by this - this thing in such a manner. All creatures are beneath her and she will take them beneath her heel, as is her right.