The bile dosen't subside. The acrid tang fall up and up and up-!
Mhairi Ankaa, Witch-Queen of Autumn, Once-Director of the Feehold of Sacramento bends over, hands finding her thighs as she vomits.
Throat raw, and shaking she stands using the back of her hand to wipe the sick away from her lips. Steam rising from her eyes as tears burn away.
They just killed a man.
No matter the reasonings it wasn't right.
Steam still rises, and shakily Mhairi moves away from her sick, already seeping into the ground, being lapped up by eager thorns. They thrive on pain, and the remains of her luch certainly demonstrated pain.
"The Margraves..." starts slow, voice raw as her throat, "They guard the border marches....they don't belong in the Freehold proper, instead they live outside it. They don't trust those within any if the Courts...and they trust Freeholders less." she starts, wishing they were elsewhere for this conversation. Wishing she could lean on something. "They hate the Kings and Queens. I think they'd rather have them." us. Looking to Circe, "Killed. They don't want to be apart of the politics...but i think there's a Pledge involved so they don't...so they'll protect the. It's, like they hate us, but they don't raze the Freeholds to the ground...so. Um... she trails off, trying not to stare at the cooling corpse not three feet from her.
Defen