Myrna suffocate the fire  i started-------------------- right when it kindles Her desire to spend time with others is not entirely sated by the Gates, and Myrna often spends time in the common lands, seeking out conversation and news from less familiar faces. After a time though, even the faces of strangers become familiar, and Myrna learned the routines and habits of many of the transient residents of these limbic spaces. But this one, today, is definitely a stranger. She draws the eye not just for her color - a flattering combination of deep black and iridescent white - but also with the transparent, fluttering wings and flowers that adorn her mane and tail. Myrna is accustomed to being the most accessorized, so she appreciates this woman’s accouterments and intends to tell her so. Making her way forward, she watches the last pair of frog legs slip past the mare’s sharp teeth. “Ugh.” She says, a sneer raising the corner of her pale mouth as she shakes her head and closes blue-grey eyes, making no effort to disguise her reaction to the other’s choice of meal. “I cannot stand the taste of frog. They’re basically waterlogged toads.” A wrinkle of her nose reveals that her opinion of the sodden amphibians are no higher than her opinion of frogs. “Honestly, anything watery is kinda gross to me. I like the little fast animals the best, rabbit’s definitely my favorite. But crickets are nice too. I think I got tired of eating fish after eating them a lot growing up.” Winter-slowed fish had been easy pickings for a girl learning to shift and hunt. The memory is a happy one though, as is her recounting of favorite foods, and she’s smiling as she asks. “What’s your name? I’m Myrna.”