Edit History

Kaikara, Demon-tainted Matanji outcast

AC: 18 | HIT POINTS: 21 | CURRENT: 21 | HERO POINTS: 1

FORTITUDE: +6 | REFLEX: +7 | WILL: +5 | PERCEPTION: +7

ACTIVE EFFECTS: None.

CONDITIONS: None.

Kaikara walked with the others, following Teacher Ot and the other students, as Thandeka praised her efforts, again, butterflies appeared in her stomach, color rising to her cheeks and collar bone.  She took a deep breath, "I am surprised the quail responded to me, most animals shun me due to the corrupting influence of Usaro."  She shrugged, nervously, "perhaps it was your calming presence that overcame it's cautionary instincts."  She slowed her place, noting, for an instant that Thandeka, despite her praise, seemed to turn inward, ruminating on her, perceived, failure.  

As they moved through the rain, Kaikara turned her head up to the skies, closing her eyes, letting the rain water slide past her lips.  Kaikara enjoyed the rain, and seeing the storm, simply accepted the fact that she would get wet, she did not raise her shoulders to shelter her collar from it.  She simply followed Teacher Ot, and soon came to recognize their destination, due to the time she had spent in the Dining Hall, under Chef Yao's tutelage.  She looked on, carefully, from the rear of the group, watching as Ot bent down to pick up a small, beautiful looking snake, with a blunted snout.  Thandeka, courageously, given her self-doubt, stepped forward, inspecting the creature, and asking their instructor if she, could, in fact, handle the creature. 

However, it was Alandri's mutterings that broke through Kaikara's introspective silence, the disrespect shown to, this, their teacher, was ... infuriating.  The calmness she had felt beneath the rain slipped away from her, the Matanji blood hammered in her veins, the arrogance, the selfishness.  Had he been behind the Nine Walls, his instructors would break a limb, and let him learn humility as he recovered in the healing houses.  She rolled her neck as she took a step forward, the loud cracking, of her wiry, muscular frame audible over the hammering of the downpour outside, her hands clenched into fists, cartilage popping as she did so.  She looked from Ot to Alandri and back again, more than willing to thrash the self entitled prick.  She took a deep breath, holding herself, barely, from the precipice, she was not attempting to intimidate the privileged sorcerer, but there was an undeniable promise of violence carved into her scowl.