Re: The Prisoner - City of Amaht
Angrboda climbs out into the courtyard, allowing the haughtiness of her ancestors to become a part of her for the moment. The change is immediately apparent to the group, even though they have only known her for a short time. Gone is the sarcastic grin, gone is the twinkle in her eye indicating that she views the world as a joke, the carefree slouch slides away to something much more fearful. Her mouth curls with disdain, as if dealing with everything around her is hardly worth the effort. Her eyes harden to the point that they look as if they may be made of the hardest stone. Her face itself somehow dons a cruelness that you cannot fathom unless you have witnessed the atrocities that happen on the Dreaming Isle. "Come, let's get this over with." she says, her voice seeming to want to flay the skin off of your bodies. She walks forward, her demeanor that of a person not to be trifled with, that of someone who belongs where she is, a person who punishes those who question.