05-05-2020, 09:37 PM
I've got you deep in the heart of me
-So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me-
ugh… she should’ve never bonded herself to him. Why? Why did she insist on making things harder for herself? Eyas sighed, knowing the look in @[Santana]’s eyes was one of disgust. She didn’t need to read his thoughts or see herself through his vision to understand that. After all, she was the meddlesome witch who’d baited him out from his cave only to nearly die in the process. Why would she simper and grovel now? What could’ve changed?
Only everything. He mistakes her shivering worry for groveling, but it’s not. It’s concern for her brother, who lives here in peace and had, in turn, brought peace to her own soul. She’d been reckless before with Satana because she had absolutely nothing to lose, and now that’d changed. One of her triplets had been returned to her - she doubted Tiercel would ever come back - and Gale’s new presence in her life had given her a reason to keep living. She’s not afraid of Santana coming here … she’s afraid of having to get Gale involved in her own mistakes.
Tana berated her, annoyingly. He tried to use that word - sniveling - like it would offend her, but Eyas set her teeth in a scowl and held her stance even when he stepped closer. Seeing him like this, all horse… it was different. Good different, maybe. She couldn’t exactly decide. It made him seem more real and less of an abomination; the pegasus mare had only seen him like this once before, and briefly then. He’d been just as condescending, though. That she remembered well.
“Look I may have run screaming from you the last time we met up,” She began with an indignant huff, “but it wasn’t because I was afraid of you. I was overwhelmed. So chill out.”
She paused, then began again. “That doesn’t excuse what I did. I… deserved what happened to me.” She seemed hesitant to admit at first, but when she lowered her head and let her eyes drift away from Santana the scars along her neck seemed more prominent. They were his own marks, and the only ones she carried around for every other horse to see. He’d done a permanent number on her mane: where his teeth and claws had ripped her smoky gold skin, nothing grew back. There were patches of her trojan mane that wouldn’t grow back over the tough, scar tissue.
“I’d still do it all over again.” Her voice came out much quieter, much more subdued now. The ocean crashing against the shore nearly drowned out her contemplative voice. “You’re the closest I could get to his mindset…” Her musing drifted off, nonsensical.
She snapped out of her brief reveries, then. “My sire is a multi-shapeshifter. He’s evil, Santana - that’s the only way I can think of describing him - but he’s afflicted by something dark. A curse, my mother thinks. I wouldn’t agree. I needed someone who… some horse who was a shifter-type as well, and someone very unwilling to let me possess them. All for practice, so that one day I could take over his body and bring him to justice.” Eyas sighed, knowing that what she said probably wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t have just asked him? Ah… no. He would’ve been willing, then, and Wolfbane would not be. And did she have to choose him? Not exactly. It was just that he came across her first, and the separation of his two souls was too good an opportunity for her to pass up. Too much like what she assumed was going on in her Father’s head, or body for that matter.
“I may or may not be the only horse willing or capable enough to put him down.” She seemed irritated. One of her hooves lifted to stamp down into the sand again, forcefully. “But I’ll be damned if I won’t try. He - he’s done awful things, ‘Tana.” She surprised herself by using his nickname aloud. They weren’t friends, not even close, but somehow the draconic stallion was closer to her than any other horse. “He deserves to suffer. I would show you, but,”
Again she paused, unsure of how to proceed. His nearness and the shape he was in distracted her, just a bit. It felt too personal, all of a sudden. “I don’t know that you would believe me. It’s almost too unreal to be true.”
Only everything. He mistakes her shivering worry for groveling, but it’s not. It’s concern for her brother, who lives here in peace and had, in turn, brought peace to her own soul. She’d been reckless before with Satana because she had absolutely nothing to lose, and now that’d changed. One of her triplets had been returned to her - she doubted Tiercel would ever come back - and Gale’s new presence in her life had given her a reason to keep living. She’s not afraid of Santana coming here … she’s afraid of having to get Gale involved in her own mistakes.
Tana berated her, annoyingly. He tried to use that word - sniveling - like it would offend her, but Eyas set her teeth in a scowl and held her stance even when he stepped closer. Seeing him like this, all horse… it was different. Good different, maybe. She couldn’t exactly decide. It made him seem more real and less of an abomination; the pegasus mare had only seen him like this once before, and briefly then. He’d been just as condescending, though. That she remembered well.
“Look I may have run screaming from you the last time we met up,” She began with an indignant huff, “but it wasn’t because I was afraid of you. I was overwhelmed. So chill out.”
She paused, then began again. “That doesn’t excuse what I did. I… deserved what happened to me.” She seemed hesitant to admit at first, but when she lowered her head and let her eyes drift away from Santana the scars along her neck seemed more prominent. They were his own marks, and the only ones she carried around for every other horse to see. He’d done a permanent number on her mane: where his teeth and claws had ripped her smoky gold skin, nothing grew back. There were patches of her trojan mane that wouldn’t grow back over the tough, scar tissue.
“I’d still do it all over again.” Her voice came out much quieter, much more subdued now. The ocean crashing against the shore nearly drowned out her contemplative voice. “You’re the closest I could get to his mindset…” Her musing drifted off, nonsensical.
She snapped out of her brief reveries, then. “My sire is a multi-shapeshifter. He’s evil, Santana - that’s the only way I can think of describing him - but he’s afflicted by something dark. A curse, my mother thinks. I wouldn’t agree. I needed someone who… some horse who was a shifter-type as well, and someone very unwilling to let me possess them. All for practice, so that one day I could take over his body and bring him to justice.” Eyas sighed, knowing that what she said probably wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t have just asked him? Ah… no. He would’ve been willing, then, and Wolfbane would not be. And did she have to choose him? Not exactly. It was just that he came across her first, and the separation of his two souls was too good an opportunity for her to pass up. Too much like what she assumed was going on in her Father’s head, or body for that matter.
“I may or may not be the only horse willing or capable enough to put him down.” She seemed irritated. One of her hooves lifted to stamp down into the sand again, forcefully. “But I’ll be damned if I won’t try. He - he’s done awful things, ‘Tana.” She surprised herself by using his nickname aloud. They weren’t friends, not even close, but somehow the draconic stallion was closer to her than any other horse. “He deserves to suffer. I would show you, but,”
Again she paused, unsure of how to proceed. His nearness and the shape he was in distracted her, just a bit. It felt too personal, all of a sudden. “I don’t know that you would believe me. It’s almost too unreal to be true.”
EYAS
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