show them the joy and the pain and the ending

They say curiosity killed the cat. Despite this pearl of wisdom, she is quite hale and very much alive. But then, she is not a cat, even if her curiosity is very much like one.

That is not to say that it had not caused her trouble before, because it most certainly has and no doubt will again. But she is no shrinking violet, not one to shy away from the more dangerous walks of life. No, not the blue and white once-queen. She did not gain the title through fear.

She also did not gain it by being a pushover. There are those who would soon learn that fact in no uncertain terms. She is curious, but by no means kind. She harbours revenge deep in her breast, and she would use what is hers to gain what she seeks. So it should come as no surprise that she keeps tab.

Of course, she spies for more purposes than revenge, as one might have already surmised. Having gone so long without her particular trait, she has much catching up to do. But having ensured her family's safety, she now seeks to assuage that aforementioned curiosity.

When her sight catches upon the deeds of one stallion, a man who seems quite determined to cut a wide swath through Beqanna, she decides to find him. One cannot live entirely in the ether after all. And for a woman like her, such a feat is not difficult.

The meadow is as familiar to her as the inside of her eyelids, so it is no great difficulty to locate and find him. When she does, she approaches with a confidence born of long years of experience and leadership that belie her true age. A creature of many facets and just as difficult to read.

”I find you everywhere, it seems,” she greets him casually, almost familiarly, foregoing all traditional niceties. Besides, she has seen enough to know it is unnecessary.

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts

show them the joy and the pain and the ending

Oh yes, he is very intriguing indeed. The sharpness of his protruding bones matches the glint in his eye. She studies him openly, uncaring of any note he might make of the boldness of her gaze.

He possesses an unusual appearance, it cannot be denied. All angles and ridges and white bone, with a deep, fearsome demeanor and fathomless dark eyes. But she has seen far, far worse. So, no, he does not surprise her, does not cause her disgust, nor even fear. With her ability to flit from sight to sight on a whim, there is little that surprises her anymore.

Besides, she can make no great claim to beauty herself. With her angular body and narrow frame, she is rather unassuming. The blue and white of her body is not unpleasant, but nothing of any particular note either. And on her chest she boasts a rather gnarled scar, courtesy of decidedly sharp raptor teeth long ago. No, her only claim to physical uniqueness is the vibrant shade of her stunningly blue gaze.

But that is neither here nor there.

Instead, she smiles, dark lips stretching into a cool grin that displays little true humor. She tips her head slightly at his words, icy eyes staring at him as one might stare at a wayward child.

”Oh, it is not nightmares I worry of when I close my eyes,” she responds with a pithy air, her words light, as though she is harboring a good joke.

No, it is definitely not nightmares she fears. Indeed, she fears little, at least when that emotion is not forced upon her (but that is an anger best saved for a later date). Certainly not this silent stallion with the unusually fearsome visage.

Easing sideways in order to face him more fully, she eyes him a bit more intently, blue gaze speculative. ”Though if it is nightmares you seek, I am certain that I could provide.”

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts

show them the joy and the pain and the ending

That faint smile still curves her lips as he edges closer, his suggestive words whispering past equally dark lips. She can feel the nearness of him, the faint heat, the coppery scent of blood, the soft huffs of air from his easy breaths. Smile deepening, she lifts her head, shifting her stance as her muzzle turns to find his neck, turns to nibble teasingly at the strands of hair there until she finds his ear.

”Secrets,” she whispers softly, almost enticingly, against him before abruptly withdrawing from him. Her gaze is no less bold than before as it finds his, grin just a bit on the wicked side.

Oh, she could play with the best of them.

His next words startle a laugh from her, one equal parts amusement and disbelief. How fanciful he is. ”I had a dream once,” she responds easily, though her words contain just a hint of something else. A hint of something deeper, almost melancholy in its feel. ”But dreams are not made to last.”

Had he asked, she would have quickly disabused him of the notion that she has any purpose here other than curiosity. Though, in all honesty, it would only be a part truth. She does have a purpose here, but it is a game long in the making, one few could ever hope to see the end to. She cultivates acquaintances as one might cultivate flowers. Friend to no one but known to everyone.

He really is an amusing diversion though. Especially coated in secrets and blood as he is. She would find his secrets, she always does. Indeed, a brief peek is all she needs. He might even hardly notice the way her gaze goes distantly for a few long moments, as though she is no longer seeing. Perhaps because she isn’t seeing him. At least, not right in that particular moment.

The smile slips from her lips than as her gaze sharpens, blue eyes focusing once more. ”Hardly,” she says quietly in response to his probing question, a sudden edge to her words. ”Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.”

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts

show them the joy and the pain and the ending

No, of course he would not remember her. They have never met. But the familial resemblance is strong.

Still, she is not one to give her secrets away with ease. And since he had not guessed, she would not tell him. Besides, she is not one to judge too harshly, even if obligation made this necessary. She has not been precisely well behaved herself.

But she would not let him escape her that easily. Without her ability to turn something into nothingness, to make matter dust with only a thought, she is not particularly dangerous. At least, not immediately so. Without any cliffs in the near vicinity, he really is in no danger from her.

That does not mean she powerless by any stretch of the imagination however.

”Of course you haven't,” she responds darkly as he turns to walk away. But that would simply never do. ”I never said we were through.”

Then, between one heartbeat and the next, she steals his sight. His vision. Leaving him in a world of blackness.

She smiles then, though he cannot see it, following so that she can slip up beside him once more. Even without sight, he would be able to feel her. The heat of her narrow frame, the gentle touch of her muzzle along back and shoulder until one last caress is placed lightly upon his neck.

”Don't tell me you would run frightened from a mere slip of a girl like me.”

Nevermind the fact that there is nothing ‘mere’ about her.

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts

show them the joy and the pain and the ending

His reaction is unexpected, to say the least. Indeed, at first he appears to have no reaction at all. But then, instead of anger or indignation or fear or demand, he softens towards her.

She has no need to hide her surprise; he cannot see her. But the way he reaches for her instead of expressing any number of other emotions she might have expected over this gives her pause. She has seen quite a bit of him, but not enough to explain this unexpected reaction apparently.

She cannot know his thoughts, cannot know who his mind lingers on besides her. For a moment, she almost doesn't care. She has not been touched so sweetly in such a long time that for a moment, she simply closes her eyes and savors it, unknowingly allowing a soft, nearly inaudible sigh to escape her lips.

Too many believe her cold, calculating, and uncaring. All of those things are true. But beneath that icy exterior, her blood runs as hot as any other woman made of flesh and blood. So she can enjoy the simple, soft touch. At least, until a flood of memories intrude, memories of a long ago dream and a long ago love.

Stiffening, she recalls herself to the present, to the man she is with, ignoring the delightful, inconvenient flutter in her chest. Lips pressing into a hard line, she does not hesitate in rifling through his vision, through his past. She may not know who he is thinking of for certain, but she can guess.

There is another, it seems, so very recently. Though she cannot hear or feel what he had, she can see. And she had long ago learned to read lips (her talents would only half so useful had she not), so she can easily sound out what she needs to know.

Giving him his sight back is easy, but she gives it back changed. They are still in the meadow, still standing in the strong summer sun, but her face had changed. She is now a lovely dappled brown with touches of dark red and wings tucked neatly against her sides.

Though she can change her face (perhaps not literally, but he would see nothing of her true form), she cannot change her voice. So the words that escape those red lips are said in a voice belonging to Heartfire, not to this lovely girl she had stolen from his sight. ”You do not wish to play such games with me Dovev.”

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts