03-18-2020, 08:40 AM
The field is a strange place, a place to advertise yourself and your search for a home, but the dappled mare never sought a home, instead she always trusted her feet to carry her forward. They had brought her to Nerine and there they stopped, for a time. The kingdom sits heavy on her shoulders, but mostly it is the expectation that she must do something, there are so many threats that gather at every corner and it is her home that they all want to peck at and destroy. Even some of her friends are eager to pull chunks from Nerine, she imagines. Suspicion, not paranoia - her skepticism has saved her enough that she trusts the misgivings that linger in her breast. These are the thoughts that divert her as she drifts through the oft-empty Field and finds it occupied instead.
"Looking for something different, but you ended up right back where you were, Old Man." She approaches the pair with her usual brashness, eyeing the familiar face of Leilan, back in his horse shape but reeking still of dragon. He took the Isle while Jesper was trapped in Loess and unable to protest, an underhanded move, really, and perhaps she should return the blasted Isle to Brennen's grandson on his return. Perhaps. Will Jesper want to take it back, burnt and melted and stinking of sulfur as it is? It is not the winter wonderland that he left, thanks to Castile. She turns away from Leilan, leaving one bear cub ear to follow him, and her cloudy gaze falls on the tigress whose breath still smells of blood and meat from her hunt. It's as good a sign as any that she is not an immediate danger from the creature, but cats are always hard to predict, even ones that are really horses. One thing is easy enough, nobody comes to the Field unless they are seeking something. Neverwhere has no taste for discussing niceties, the weather or the way her stripes blend so nicely into the sun-dappled grass, she will not dance around the question.
"My name is Neverwhere," Her head tilts to the side, she had only just heard the shifter's name on Leilan's lips as she drew near but even he seemed uncertain. She does not use it, instead she wonders why Sochi is even here. She does not appear to be someone accustomed to asking for help or home and the dissonance piques her curiousity. "What are you looking for?"
"Looking for something different, but you ended up right back where you were, Old Man." She approaches the pair with her usual brashness, eyeing the familiar face of Leilan, back in his horse shape but reeking still of dragon. He took the Isle while Jesper was trapped in Loess and unable to protest, an underhanded move, really, and perhaps she should return the blasted Isle to Brennen's grandson on his return. Perhaps. Will Jesper want to take it back, burnt and melted and stinking of sulfur as it is? It is not the winter wonderland that he left, thanks to Castile. She turns away from Leilan, leaving one bear cub ear to follow him, and her cloudy gaze falls on the tigress whose breath still smells of blood and meat from her hunt. It's as good a sign as any that she is not an immediate danger from the creature, but cats are always hard to predict, even ones that are really horses. One thing is easy enough, nobody comes to the Field unless they are seeking something. Neverwhere has no taste for discussing niceties, the weather or the way her stripes blend so nicely into the sun-dappled grass, she will not dance around the question.
"My name is Neverwhere," Her head tilts to the side, she had only just heard the shifter's name on Leilan's lips as she drew near but even he seemed uncertain. She does not use it, instead she wonders why Sochi is even here. She does not appear to be someone accustomed to asking for help or home and the dissonance piques her curiousity. "What are you looking for?"
Neverwhere
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