It is not often she considers it like that, her secrecy, her reticence in sharing too much of herself. It could be tiring, incredibly so, but there are so few who could even hope to truly understand her burdens. She hides them as well as she does everything else. As well as the emotions that roil deep within her soul, an untempered heat that she refuses to allow to the surface. The cool facade she so easily projects is just that - a facade.
It is something that had taken years to perfect, but unbeknownst to nearly everyone, she had had a lifetime to do so. A lifetime in another world that had been carried over in heart and soul, if not in body.
So sharing does not come easily to her, even with Wyrm. Her body she had given to him (the very last innocence left to her, if it could truly be called that) and she had gladly borne his children, but her heart is so very much more elusive. Her mind rules it far too much for her to give it freely, even if he does hold more sway there than she would ever admit.
“Your daughter could never hate you.” A faint smile touches her lips, the fondness in her breast overriding her natural ability to so easily control her expressions. “She is too much like my mother for that. She loves you.” She pauses then, sharp gaze considering Wyrm’s emerald features. “And she could benefit from learning a thing or two from you. She sees the world differently than you and I, and I fear it will only cause her pain.” She more than feared it would, she knew it would. Rapture would enjoy time spent with her father, and if it helped alter her world view a bit, all the better.
When he brings the conversation around to her nemesis, commenting on her recalcitrance in revealing information, she stills for several long moments, gaze shifting to consider the distant sea visible just past the trees and jutting cliff. After a moment of silence, she sighs, turning her refined head until the velvet of her muzzle is pressed against the green of his neck. Despite the tender gesture, her blue eyes harden, glittering with intense emotions as her consideration turns towards the stallion she had vowed her revenge on.
“As it happens, I believe you may know him.” The silence that follows is nearly deafening, but finally she whispers into his neck, her tone soft and filled with menace, one simple word. A name. “Bruise.”
Withdrawing her touch, she turns her gaze to find his, her features once more settling into impassivity. “As for his crimes, let us just say that he should choose his victims more carefully.”
