if she could bear to show shock of this world, this would be the moment. her eyes tell the story of her struggles through tattooed tears of anguish. she is slow to rise to her feet, never allowing her eyes to falter from the bear god.
“ volibear .. ? ” the fell angel inquires, examining his form. no amount of surprise could bestow her enough understanding of what she looks upon. she was afraid, but would dare not show it. when walking in the valley of what could be her demise, she must show no fear.
“ i’ve resented my kin .. ” her words carry, earnestly. “ resented what i am and what i must stand for. there is no greater desire than to destroy the light that my sister possesses. she has become corrupt in her time .. ” a pause, thinking about her words carefully, she will once again bow in the bear’s presence.
“ you and my sister, kayle, clashed. it .. was a brilliant display of battle. for that, i am grateful .. and wish more than anything to join your cause. to see her fall, that is my greatest desire in life. i would .. bury my mother’s sword that is on her person. ” these words of her mother pain her, for she detested her mother for being the bright aspect that she was. this same influence to harness the light would be that which corrupted her sister. once upon a time, they were just young girls. the forests of demacia whispered their names and they were inseparable. all that has passed now. now, the dark twin wished nothing more than to see those of holy light SUFFER. “ please .. allow me to fight at your side oh god of thunder. ”
The response she hears is not of a voice, but a sensation. It strikes through the air, the gale itself becoming charged with wild fury. Down to her core, his answer is conveyed through words and raw emotion. The vrestrom was not like the sisters, no: it was primal - As archaic and as old as the land which it inhabited. So too was its reply, a guttural feeling of rage. A memory of wolves walking along snow, stalking a Demacian patrol as wind beat against their fur. It was raw instinct which she felt, a hatred for what was not welcome. It was the untamed rage which lashed out at all which sought to tame it. Kayle among them, she was but another which stood against the storm which spanned across her vision among the peaks of the Freljord. It was impersonal, unlike Morgana hatred. Demacia was trespassed on territory which it did now hold, territory that wild, that was his. And just as any other beast would defend their soil, so too did the volibear ruthlessely guard the Freljord. Clawing at Demacia's borders, the storm pressed its expanse out inch by inch as it was contested. As she stood amidst the cold and thunder, the voice of the Volibear rang in her mind yet again.
Her wish to fight, to come to his side; It's a cry that's welcomed and dismissed in the same breath. His fight was with those that stood with him, who shouted for the Storm as false idols were pulled to the ground and reduced to ash and soil. Thunder cracks against the sky with the words, they bark out like a demand.
❝ Make them bleed! Rip their heart from their chest! Tear the sword from their grasp! Break them open! ❞
❝ THAT is the way of old Vorrijaard... ❞
