Valour Skyglow
Summer 66, 517 AV
Summer 66, 517 AV
Valour was angry. It was not an emotion she tended to portray, it was almost one that she had never experienced. However, after finding out about the Vanthas having a bounty on their head, and heard the talk of the possible attacks on Avanthal, she had gone from nearly sane, to nearly insane. It wasn’t in the sense that she would go on a verbal rampage, or scream and cause a scene; it was all mental. She had become infuriated with the fact that Vanthas would be killed due to Morwens decision, a decision that should not have caused an unfair domino effect.
She was walking through the Kniran Gardens, her hoodie pulled over her head, ebony material flowering behind her, and a canvas tucked under her arm. She held paintbrushes and paint in the other hand, and her walk was one of uncertainty, one that wobbled and appeared to be on the verge of collapse. She felt weak, both of crying due to the reoccurring thought that her family was probably dead, and the idea that her life was on the line; she didn’t know what to do. She considered going back, though knew that unless she knew how to fight, she would be a burden to her family. Staying in Riverfall meant she would have to remain concealed from most, appearing like an average human rather than Vantha. It made her sick to her stomach- that children – including herself – would be killed for mizas.
Her eyes were a light red- both due to crying and natural shift in color; it appeared normal, so she was not concerned with it. She settled on a bench under one of the towering trees, placing the canvas on the wooden surface. Over time her anger had turned into sadness, resulting in her depressing aura. She was not concerned with what others thought of her, but rather felt that being alone would be best, thus being negative would drive people away.
Pulling out her paints, she placed them on the side before taking out a large brush. Valour nearly forgot her palette, though brought it up beside the paints. She placed a bit of each one in their designated locations, nodding in meager triumph. She then dipped the waiting brush into the red paint, and began painting intense flame-like lines, starting from the bottom of the page to the middle, lower half. She pressed down at the base and lightened her grip towards the top. She did this with the yellow, before combining it with the red. She made sure to pick out which colors were where- the red being the most intense. The yellow was painted out with a small brush, swift strokes used to efficiently fit it with the crimson. The orange was added to the top, the brush caressing the canvas softly though making noticeable marks.
The fire represented her bubbling anger, from the blood-red streaks to the painfully light yellows. The canvas was slowly getting fuller and fuller as she added to the intensity, drawing out the streaks with an increasing anger. She abruptly slammed the brush down onto the surface, pulling her knees to her chest and yanking the hoodie down farther. The paint had managed to remain unscathed, though her brush had splattered a bit of the liquid onto the bench. The brush itself had rolled from the small table and onto the ground. Despite this, Valour did not care- she was too focused on the water that began to well up in her eyes. She wasn’t sure whether to feel hopeless, furious or depressed.
