07-27-2019, 05:21 AM
Ilma
One night I will be the moon
hanging over you
One night I will be a star
follow where you are
hanging over you
One night I will be a star
follow where you are
She only moved when she had finally admitted to herself… that she was curious.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know what Loess did, or heck, it’s not like she hadn’t been there before a few times so she is not curious about what it looks, feels, or smells like. No - not even did she want to know what Castile had accomplished; she knew that. She came now, because after all he’d said, she was curious about his residents - mostly the young ones. Would they like him, look up to him, was he a good leader to all kinds and not just those that had already acknowledged they wanted the unrest, by joining him - no, it’s the young ones, born there or moved there without much of a choice, that she is curious about - what effect does he have on them?
And what about the aftermath of war? What did that do to the Loessians? Did they all hate Tephra now or would they be satisfied now that they’d won? That - that’s what she comes to investigate. And only partly because she likes Castile and wants to see if his pride of this land is something she can live with. Only partly.
It is with those questions that she carefully skids along the border until she finds a spot to trespass with minimal or no eyes on her. She knows it is wrong, in a way, but then again Castile probably would encourage this kind of behaviour, he would just be surprised she was the one doing it.
But she hadn’t come to see him, and she knew he’d know her scent by heart, and thus the avoidance game should be played, at least a little while.
Scouting around, she soon found a small figure in the distance, seemingly alone, and so she beelined towards the colt, snorting softly before speaking. ”Hello, you. I’m Ilma, a visitor today. How are you doing?” she wonders, looking from him (and his stuck out tongue) to the pool - only now realizing that he didn’t quite look at her. She decided not to comment - probably all the other children, and most adults, already had.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know what Loess did, or heck, it’s not like she hadn’t been there before a few times so she is not curious about what it looks, feels, or smells like. No - not even did she want to know what Castile had accomplished; she knew that. She came now, because after all he’d said, she was curious about his residents - mostly the young ones. Would they like him, look up to him, was he a good leader to all kinds and not just those that had already acknowledged they wanted the unrest, by joining him - no, it’s the young ones, born there or moved there without much of a choice, that she is curious about - what effect does he have on them?
And what about the aftermath of war? What did that do to the Loessians? Did they all hate Tephra now or would they be satisfied now that they’d won? That - that’s what she comes to investigate. And only partly because she likes Castile and wants to see if his pride of this land is something she can live with. Only partly.
It is with those questions that she carefully skids along the border until she finds a spot to trespass with minimal or no eyes on her. She knows it is wrong, in a way, but then again Castile probably would encourage this kind of behaviour, he would just be surprised she was the one doing it.
But she hadn’t come to see him, and she knew he’d know her scent by heart, and thus the avoidance game should be played, at least a little while.
Scouting around, she soon found a small figure in the distance, seemingly alone, and so she beelined towards the colt, snorting softly before speaking. ”Hello, you. I’m Ilma, a visitor today. How are you doing?” she wonders, looking from him (and his stuck out tongue) to the pool - only now realizing that he didn’t quite look at her. She decided not to comment - probably all the other children, and most adults, already had.
Hurry, the sun is waking
Darling, don't leave me waiting
Darling, don't leave me waiting
@[Tlali]
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time