show them the joy and the pain and the ending

The forest is almost a second home to her, an escape from the mundane, the everyday life. The trees, somehow weighty and ancient despite their relative newness, are as familiar and comfortable as her own skin. She had long since memorized every groove and every limb (the better to find those she seeks, but that is almost secondary). So it should come as no surprise that she might be found within their dark and secretive depths. She often could be.

What does come as a surprise is the intrusion. Of course, she had not been paying any particular attention. Her focus had been distant, her mind far removed, contemplating the woes of life and all of its inevitable changes. All the ways it sought to thwart her.

And so, though her body is present, blue and white skin dappled in the dim light, her mind is not. At least, not until she hears the crunch of ice, the sound of her name on another's lips.

Her gaze turns to find a familiar gold and white form. Though they hardly know each other, she recognizes her with no difficulty. “Ellyse,” she responds, her tone neither welcoming nor dismissive, but rather carefully neutral. “I imagine the same things that bring you here, so far from home.”

It's an old song and dance, one she's more than happy to play. At least, until the next question falls impudently from Ellyse’s lips.

For a moment, she is rather confounded by the query. She has done a fair amount of negotiating in her life, but she cannot think of one which this mare might have been privy to. However, it takes her only a quick search of the other woman's visual history to provide the answer.

Cool blue gaze chilling to the iciest depths of winter, she shifts her gaze to boldly hold the other woman's eyes. One equine brow rising, she continues in a deceptively soft spoken tone, “And who says I have given anything of myself away?”

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts

show them the joy and the pain and the ending

It is not the first time her abilities have been mistaken for mind-reading. There is a close connection, after all. Still, traditional methods of blocking mind-readers have no hopes of working on her. She had long ago learned that it is rather a boon to be so misjudged, and so she feels no compunction to correct the mistake. She may not be able to read minds, but the woman’s dry non-answer is answer enough.

She also feels no need to make any response beyond a slight quirking of her lips into the barest of smiles. There is no humor in that expression, but she has no doubt the other mare would be able to read plenty from the simple upturn of her mouth.

In so many ways they are similar. She would be blind not see such a thing, especially given her particular abilities. But neither is she naive enough to believe she could ever get along with herself, or anyone too similar, for that matter. Perhaps once, when she was young, she might have been able to develop a friendship with the mare next to her, but the opportunity has long since passed. Fate had decreed otherwise. She had met Wyrm instead. She is not fool enough to believe she would have developed such a deep and abiding kinship with the green stallion had she met him as an adult rather than a child.

But frankly, that is neither here nor there. Despite all odds, she does have a care for the man, and much more than a care for their children. She does not expect his woman to understand her reasons for her actions, nor does she have any desire to explain. She does, however, have a strong protective streak that Ellyse just happens to be trodding dangerously close to.

All expression slips from her features, her brilliant blue eyes sparking with a frigid fire. “And I do not trust those who cannot see past the end of their nose.”

She allows the silence to stretch for a heartbeat or two, eyes fixed upon the golden mare. Insulting Wyrm is one thing - he is a grown man who can defend himself - insulting her children is something else entirely. And the brazen woman had come perilously close to doing so. Close enough that she could not allow it to rest unchallenged. “You should leave before you say something best left unsaid.”

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts

show them the joy and the pain and the ending

She had been born of love, a creation of the heart. She knows its power, and she knows the feel of it deep in her soul. Despite all appearances, she has loved, greatly and deeply. Her unwelcome companion might feel superior for its role in creating her own children, but it just shows exactly how narrow her world view is.

And frankly, Heartfire feels no need to justify herself. She never has. She has lived too long (oh, her body might be youthful, but her mind is ancient. Even had she not seen through the eyes of others, she has already lived a lifetime, one reigning as a queen in a far off distant land by the side of her first love).

So the accusation that she lacks substance, well, it's laughable. And as far as theatrics goes - Heartfire flicks her blue eyes to the spines now poking from Ellyse's golden skin, one brow rising in a gesture of derision. If she wanted theatrics, she could certainly provide, but she does not threaten unless she has every intention of upholding such an ultimatum.

The vision surprises her however. It's rare that there is such a sight strong enough the tickle her inner eye without her reaching for it. But curiosity, always her biggest weakness, has her shifting her sight to the mare, to the scene of two abandoned young children. The implication is unmistakable.

The anger that had been simmering inside of her flares to furious life, causing her entire body to go unnaturally still. And though she still has not moved a muscle, a ripple begins around them. The trees begin to shudder, the leaves quaking violently until they fall apart, turning to dust drifting down around them. The sun breaks through the abruptly denuded trees, the motes still dancing in the air caught in its yellow light.

Finally, she says simply, cryptically, “You should not start fires you cannot put out.” She turns to go, before pausing and looking back.

“If I were you, I'd worry more about your own family and less about others. We are done here.” With that last, she leaves, not bothering to wait for a reply. There is nothing more to be said.

heartfire

i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts