Arsynia,
Lioness of Prideless
Played by dusk

arsynia tollaire.

Kaden, he responded, and Arsynia recited the name to memory. There were so few lions she'd met so far in these strange lands that it was easy to remember the faces she'd come across, and how each and every one of them shared the same similar characteristics: boyish, steeled, giant. Its expanse stretched further than the valley she'd grown up in, and did not seem to be plagued by its same uncertainty. The ground did not rumble and creak as the volcano's underbelly swelled, nor did the heat of the savanna draw away the hopes of mild winters save for the mountains ruled often by large, protective kings.

And yet, these men seemed more powerful. Almost like her father.

Fine by me. A fast pace helps with the cold, Kaden drawled, drawing Arsynia's attention away from her distant thinking. Lingering, even among the protective barriers of the trees, would do little to settle the bitter chill. Arsynia turned to follow him, the soft snow crunching underfoot, though her toes too had long grown numb. This land--Aesseldar--is this your home? Aesseldar. Was this what this place was called? Arsynia paused, her lips pressing into a firm, thin line. The mannerism of his question lead Arsynia to believe that he perhaps, too, was not a native of this place.

How easy it would be to shed her past, to bare a new skin in favor of anonymity; and yet, the ghost of her father clung to her, the threatening promise of Smaug carried in her teeth and her soul. Leave it now or embrace it. “No,” she finally breathed, “but perhaps someday.” Strange how those words felt so familiar.

Art by AleTie