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Astarte

5 y/o xlarge Female
Lucien, Male Raven
Table: 
Heedless of the night to come, knowing her body needed the brighter rays of the sun. But for now, it did not matter. Her guard down, her mind unwinding and forgetting the constant distrust of Nidria. Of what it might show her, as these foreigners polluted her land, her home. Lucien often times pardoned her, showed her to love unconditionally. But as he was away occasionally, Astarte found her own individual thoughts surface with no conditioning; untainted opinions and a more dominant persona brewing in the core as she matured mentally. Becoming a woman, and adult all together. An impatient, rather dogmatic, rigid woman. An entitlement over the non-natives. A racist to be, her story a darker one to behold that not even her companion saw.

But for her development, it was seen as only self empowerment. Her ego like the fiery sun, growing ablaze day after day. Her dominance swelling, her temperament ever changing and her own mercy selective to it's show. It was her maturity causing order- from herself and all things. And who ever stood in that way, stood in her way.

A determined, focused and mentally agile woman she was blooming to be. And here as she walked, calmly as ever while her story did unfold. Quiet amongst her land, her name ever silent for now. Secret,- like the cherry blossom plantation. It's peril unknown to her; it's danger transparent as she would waltz through the garden of eternal blossoms. Resilient to the seasons it seemed, their colors vibrant while acidic. Gleaming at her as if telling her sniff more & so she does.

It's then she halts, being pulled into a seat as she found herself captivated. A hyping desire to stay here a little longer, just before the sun set of course..

“astarte.“


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Astarte

5 y/o xlarge Female
Lucien, Male Raven
Table: 
Heedless of the night to come, knowing her body needed the brighter rays of the sun. But for now, it did not matter. Her guard down, her mind unwinding and forgetting the constant distrust of Nidria. Of what it might show her, as these foreigners polluted her land, her home. Lucien often times pardoned her, showed her to love unconditionally. But as he was away occasionally, Astarte found her own individual thoughts surface with no conditioning; untainted opinions and a more dominant persona brewing in the core as she matured mentally. Becoming a woman, and adult all together. An impatient, rather dogmatic, rigid woman. An entitlement over the non-natives. A racist to be, her story a darker one to behold that not even her companion saw.

But for her development, it was seen as only self empowerment. Her ego like the fiery sun, growing ablaze day after day. Her dominance swelling, her temperament ever changing and her own mercy selective to it's show. It was her maturity causing order- from herself and all things. And who ever stood in that way, stood in her way.

A determined, focused and mentally agile woman she was blooming to be. And here as she walked, calmly as ever while her story did unfold. Quiet amongst her land, her name ever silent for now. Secret,- like the cherry blossom plantation. It's peril unknown to her; it's danger transparent as she would waltz through the garden of eternal blossoms. Resilient to the seasons it seemed, their colors vibrant while acidic. Gleaming at her as if telling her sniff more & so she does.

It's then she halts, being pulled into a seat as she found herself captivated. A hyping desire to stay here a little longer, just before the sun set of course..

“astarte.“


 
art by rettamkrad©
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