Posted: Feb 13 2018, 05:48 AM

Love me, hate me; ain't no daisy. You want safety, find a daffodil. I can't help it. Wild, reckless. Leave you breathless, tangled up in silk.
Asha had been absent from a midday meal her stepmother had extended an invite to all three Stark daughters, expecting the presence of at least two of the young women. It was no surprise the youngest wolf failed to present herself to the Lannister, opting to spend her time in a way that did not leave an acrid taste lingering in her mouth. Her breath would not be shortened by an impossibly tight bodice nor her legs obstructed by a mess of skirts merely to appease her father's wife. Having been Lady of Winterfell for over five years, the Wild Wolf had yet to allow her birth given name to pass through her lips. Asha's mouth transformed into a deep grimace from the simple thought of the wretched Lannister. She willed the thought of her to flee from her mind to keep her mood from souring any further.

Instead, Asha found it suitable to drape linen black tunic she had requested a handmaiden to fashion into a dress on her porcelain form. Her signature crimson cloak of crushed velvet with ornate golden trim was fastened around her neck. Asha's boots were composed of a high quality leather, reaching midway up her calves and fastened with laces on the sides of the footwear. Scuffed from age and the plethora of excursions the princess conducted, they continued to carry her towards her every whim and desire. Barron lopped closely by her side, appearing languid though the sharpness of his stare told of his true state of awareness. They were observed as a formidable pair, challenging any of the castle workers who were aware of her absence from the Great Keep though they would undoubtedly keep their mouths sealed.

"How should we pass the time, Barron? The whole day lies ahead of us, blissfully absent of any obligations," she crooned to her direwolf, a delighted smile on her face as she reached down to brush her fingers through his silken sable coat. He remained silence, an answer expected from the beast whole only howled or cried out when danger could be detected. The Wild Wolf huffed out an exaggerated breath, blazing stare falling down to Barron. "You could at least have the consideration to start trotting in the direction of whatever holds your interest, Barron Stark. You're acting insolent," she chided her companion, though her tone was devoid of any veracity. Head tilted to look up to his master, his muzzle seemingly held an intangible smile to counter the words directed to him. Asha erupted into a fit of laughter, dropping to her knees to ring her arms around his neck in a sincere embrace.

Her joviality was halted prematurely. She felt Barron's back and stifle's tense, a low rumble of a growl emitted from his snarled muzzle. Asha continued to hang from the menacing beast, unfazed by his show of defense to whatever he believed to pose a threat. "It's best if you back away from him. Slowly; don't make any abrupt movements. He isn't prone to obedience when he feels imperiled," the blonde spoke absently, languid enough to keep from wheeling around to properly face the other.

 Posted: Feb 15 2018, 11:49 PM

Riding atop Vermithor's wings, trussed up in multiple layers of clothing with nary an ounce of skin exposed to the cold, Laem had almost grown to regret his choice to travel north as a gesture of goodwill. The weather was his bitter enemy and if it weren't for Vermithor's fiery warmth and radiating heat, he would've had a much harder time on this journey. Maybe he was just spoiled. After all, the northfolk lived every day in this cold so he should eventually grow used to it as well. Vermithor's scales provided him more than ample comfort as the large wings flapped harder and they began their descent towards the ground. The sprawling complex of Winterfell was dead in his sights and not too far off into the horizon. The descent was brief and brought them to a clearing away from Winter town. Much as he would rather have Vermithor accompany him inside and would dearly miss the dragon's companionship, he knew all too well that it would be better to not test the locals while he was on a goodwill trip. The appearance of a Targaryen was most likely going to be ill-received and a dragon wading into their territory probably even less welcome. He held out a hand and rubbed Verm's nose before shuffling off the great beast's back. They would accompany each other for a bit before he would be off. First thing in order was to feed him. There were bound to be at least a few deer around and he knew that the beast would have little trouble hunting for his supper. Still though, he was bound with worry that he could not shake. This was going to be difficult indeed. They accompanied each other a few more kilometers until arriving at the boundary where the roads separated and the town was in plain view a few hillsides below. "Stay out of sight. I'll let you know as soon as I'm finished." The dragon responded with a mere blink and a twist of his mighty neck. It was weird how he took this to be understanding and acceptance, but it passed between them almost without him needing to voice the words. Laem looked away and began to take a step, but then he heard a feral growl and a girl's voice. His eyes turned as he came upon the horizon, spotting what appeared to be a young girl accompanied by a rather large wolf. Vermithor and the beast locked eyes and Vermithor snapped at the wolfish creature. Taking the girl's advice, Laem made no sudden movements and simply raised his hands up in slow and careful motions. "Neither is my dragon." Backing away slowly, Laem patted Vermithor's head slightly and rubbed his hand over the beast's wing. Steadily, the dragon backed off, but didn't blink or lift its gaze. "We come in peace and mean you no harm. My name is Laemion Targaryen... and I wish to speak with you."
tag ↠ TSUNDERE Notes: "Speech Here"
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