She's got the devil's eyes

Though their paths had crossed from time to time, as they were wont to do given their mutual interests, it has been far too long since they had had a moment for a more private discussion. An oversight Heartfire is keen to correct. Magicians are not among the simplest of creature to pin down, of course, but Heartfire is not without means of her own. Neither is she especially easy to dissuade when she sets her mind to something.

Fortunately for her, Brennen seems to have a penchant for strong women. Perhaps his affection for her grandmother might be afforded, in some part at least, to her. For all that she is a difficult woman who has few (what one might actually consider) friends, she has an abiding respect and unspoken trust in the winged stallion that could almost be mistaken for something akin to affection.

Still, whether regrettable or not, she has some difficulty admitting to such things, so it remains an unspoken secret.

The day is overcast, clouds hanging low in the sky as rain threatens but never quite seems to spill. The wind mutters endlessly across the high cliffs of Nerine, seeming uncertain whether to blow fiercely or give way to the impending storm. Heartfire stands along one jagged cliffedge, staring out at the white-capped spatter of the crashing waves, dark mane whipped into a tangle by the indecisive tug of the wind. Toes flirt with the edges of the crumbling stone, dangerously unafraid of rock that could so easily tumble beneath her. Perhaps it would. But she doubts it.

He’s close. She can feel it, a tickle at the edges of her vision. She’d been calling, knowing he would hear her. Not in the usual way she does such things of course. He is one of the few who could so easily foil her abilities if he so chose, and so she does not try. No, instead she uses that long-ago forged connection. The one of blood, the one she knows he’d woven when he’d been gifted his magic. A connection passed down to her by way of her maternal grandmother. The same one that proclaimed her great-granddaughter.

She could only hope he would answer.

and they'll cut you like a weapon

She's got the devil's eyes

A faint almost crackle is the only warning she is given before he appears on the cliff. With the harsh gusts of wind, she might have missed it had she not been waiting. His words draw her gaze to him, the blue briefly shrouded by the tangle of her forelock. A faint smile touches her lips at his words, the thought briefly crossing her mind that he would be one of the very few who might actually be sorry to see her tumble over the edge.

Were she a woman with any less confidence, that thought might have bothered her.

“Mmmm,” she murmurs thoughtfully in reply, gaze briefly returning to the unmatched view of the sea from her perch. “I don’t think it’s really my style.” No, if she went down in anything less than a wildly spectacular fashion, she’d be quite disappointed.

While she doesn’t hold any particular fears standing so close to the edge of ruin, she does step back after another moment. Turning, she faces the winged magician, bold gaze settling unapologetically on him. Were she a woman who gave in to such things, she might regret they’d never had the chance to know one another better. They are family, after all. And for all their differences, that is one thing they have in common.

Heartfire had always held her family in much higher regard than anyone might have guessed. Has long strived to watch and protect whenever possible.

Truthfully, it had never bothered her that Brennen didn’t seem particularly tied to Nerine. After all, it is merely a tract of land, rock and earth covered in grass and trees. Heartfire had always been the same. Her ties to this kingdom were not to what rests beneath her feet, but the kinship of those who call it home. No matter how far flung they might currently be. She keeps Nerine for it’s people, not for the land, no matter how beautiful.

His offhand comment brings a faint glint of amusement to her eye. While she is glad to know he would still answer Nerine’s plea, she hoped such needs would remain entirely unnecessary. She is not a war-monger, and would much prefer her wits to battle in gaining what she desires. Still, she’s not foolish enough to believe Nerine might forever remain immune to such things.

“Not as yet,” she replies easily, her voice light. “And given the option, I’ll keep it that way.” Of course, he must be aware of the threads of tension running through Beqanna. It may have been quiet lately, but it was much more the hush before the storm than any true sense of peace. And while Heartfire may have no interest in stirring trouble where there is none, she knows eventually it would break. And she has no intention of being unprepared when it does.

Tilting her head faintly, she glances briefly at the rambling cliff-edge before peering back at Brennen. “Shall we walk?” she asks in lieu of a response. “I too find myself wishing to discuss other things.”

Honestly, at the moment, she’s rather sick of politics anyway.

and they'll cut you like a weapon