Llkt'tudrin'wyshd
Feathered Hunter
It was amusing to the reptilian humanoid how, subconsciously and without notice, things like intimidation and the attempt to position yourself as having more power than someone else were employed. Such a scene was currently being played out involving him, a scene that served to only garner silent scoffs of annoyance from Drin. His arms were bound with nothing more than simple rope; a sign that, apparently, those escorting him held no worries as to his strength, binding him only because it made it easier to move him and not to restrain physical prowess. Spears were pointed at his neck, their tips pushing sharply against his scales; a warning that they could end him before he could even think of doing anything. Respectively: a way of his escorts positioning themselves as superior and a way for them to try and intimidate him.
Of course, the simple fact was that for such tactics to have an effect upon the subject, they needed to be applied to a subject unacceptable to them; whether through low self-esteem or just a simple weak spine. However, neither of those factors could be applied to Drin and, as such, he ignored the feeble efforts and simply cast his sharp blue gaze around the surrounding area - uncaring of whatever orders his actions garnered from his female guards. The surrounding land of Dathomir had changed since the Ritual had taken place nearby. Not in an overt way, no true upheaval of land and nature as had stricken other areas of the planet, but, instead, it seemed as if something new was in the air, was in the very surrounding planet matter and animals. Something darker, something alive and yet dead at the same time, a stench that stung at the tongue.
Grunting slightly as his escorts pulled him sharply to a stop before the woman that had conducted the very ritual his mind had just been on, Drin only tilted he had down to stare at the much smaller females around him, a rumbling trill echoing forth from the back of his throat before turning his blank stare forwards once more. He was content in his servitude to his Goddess, after all. She had decreed that his home had not been with his people, that his home was to be with Uul Dyi. She had decreed that his life was to change and up heave itself constantly, shift him from act to act through chaos and change in the effort to push him ever closer to his destiny. That he was confident in and it, for that reason, that he did not bow, did not bend his knees in submission. For, to do so, would be to shame the path his Goddess had sent him on.
Words were being spoken by the women that had dragged him from Uul, dragged him before this 'Mother', but he did not care enough to pay attention. What they spoke were meaningless words, words of submission even as they tried to get him to bow to them. Words tinged with insecurity and trepidation as they spoke words in the effort to please and, so long as they twisted words so as to please, they would never speak of the truth. For, how could they when they could acknowledge that the truth might turn against them. As such, for the Qu'un, he did not listen to the words of the Nightsisters.
It was only when the 'Mother' moved, stalking towards him as if she saw herself as some apex predator, that Drin pulled his attention back from his musings and his wondering. With sharp eyes he simply stared at her as she came closer, the tail that he had kept loose and dragging upon the floor so far beginning to twitch in curiosity. Tilting his head, he trilled out a low, short sound. Translated to Basic, not that anyone other than Uul could actually do so due to the fact that his race was isolationist by nature and he had only taught her, such a trill meant only one thing, an expression of emotion rather than a word. Curiosity.
[member="Mother Iviss"]
Of course, the simple fact was that for such tactics to have an effect upon the subject, they needed to be applied to a subject unacceptable to them; whether through low self-esteem or just a simple weak spine. However, neither of those factors could be applied to Drin and, as such, he ignored the feeble efforts and simply cast his sharp blue gaze around the surrounding area - uncaring of whatever orders his actions garnered from his female guards. The surrounding land of Dathomir had changed since the Ritual had taken place nearby. Not in an overt way, no true upheaval of land and nature as had stricken other areas of the planet, but, instead, it seemed as if something new was in the air, was in the very surrounding planet matter and animals. Something darker, something alive and yet dead at the same time, a stench that stung at the tongue.
Grunting slightly as his escorts pulled him sharply to a stop before the woman that had conducted the very ritual his mind had just been on, Drin only tilted he had down to stare at the much smaller females around him, a rumbling trill echoing forth from the back of his throat before turning his blank stare forwards once more. He was content in his servitude to his Goddess, after all. She had decreed that his home had not been with his people, that his home was to be with Uul Dyi. She had decreed that his life was to change and up heave itself constantly, shift him from act to act through chaos and change in the effort to push him ever closer to his destiny. That he was confident in and it, for that reason, that he did not bow, did not bend his knees in submission. For, to do so, would be to shame the path his Goddess had sent him on.
Words were being spoken by the women that had dragged him from Uul, dragged him before this 'Mother', but he did not care enough to pay attention. What they spoke were meaningless words, words of submission even as they tried to get him to bow to them. Words tinged with insecurity and trepidation as they spoke words in the effort to please and, so long as they twisted words so as to please, they would never speak of the truth. For, how could they when they could acknowledge that the truth might turn against them. As such, for the Qu'un, he did not listen to the words of the Nightsisters.
It was only when the 'Mother' moved, stalking towards him as if she saw herself as some apex predator, that Drin pulled his attention back from his musings and his wondering. With sharp eyes he simply stared at her as she came closer, the tail that he had kept loose and dragging upon the floor so far beginning to twitch in curiosity. Tilting his head, he trilled out a low, short sound. Translated to Basic, not that anyone other than Uul could actually do so due to the fact that his race was isolationist by nature and he had only taught her, such a trill meant only one thing, an expression of emotion rather than a word. Curiosity.
[member="Mother Iviss"]