She's got the devil's eyes
It has been a long time since she has had the opportunity to speak alone with her grandmother. And so much has changed since then. She supposes it is time then that they had another discussion. Nerine has been quiet. Too quiet, since not long after the plague had fallen. Like the hush before the storm.
She would much rather be ahead of the storm than caught in it by surprise. She does not care for surprises.
She makes her way along the cliffs in an almost a leisurely stroll, watching the waves as the crash along the rocks far below. She had already found her grandmother, but she does not rush in heedlessly, instead taking her time. No doubt Scorch had seen her by now. No doubt is curious. Her grandmother, of all equines, must know her calls are not often social ones.
She would be a terrible socializer anyway. It’s difficult to have a friend who could see everything you do. One as blunt and candidly honest as she has the unfortunate habit of being. Though the characteristics that make her a terrible friend are exactly those that make her such a fantastic ally.
The wind ruffles the dark strands of her mane, carrying the chill of winter and the scent of salt and water. Familiar and calming, a home she had never meant to be so important, but, somehow, it had become greatly so. Far more than any place she has ever been before. It had become hers, in the same way as her family is hers.
“Scorch,” she murmurs as she finally settles alongside her grandmother, her bright blue gaze sweeping the crashing waves once more before shifting to settle on the fiery woman beside her. “It’s been a while.”
and they'll cut you like a weapon
@[Scorch]