[private] time for the father-daughter dance

[Beyza]

The warning about Atrox gets a nod from the pale girl, though her gaze does drift and her mind does too - finding herself curious about this less-than-friendly friend that Ryatah seems to have. Surely he can’t be so bad if the angelic mare is living in the same land as him. But those are thoughts for another time. The confirmation almost winds Beyza. She is surprised too - she does not know much about how reproduction works but she knows it usually involves a boy and a girl. And that Agetta didn’t know? If Beyza’s clear features could show her expression easily, it would be a frown, but her voice conveys the turmoil of emotions when she finds it again. “What about my dad? Do you think he knows?” The young girl wonders if she should still even call him dad. They share no blood. That is the blow she feels the most, she thinks. It’s like Plume was just carved out of her family right here in this beautiful mountainous land. No, that doesn’t have to be true. Blood doesn’t have to be everything. She can physically feel herself begin to detach from the torrent of strange and raw emotions that begins to rise in her. She compartmentalizes them swiftly, placing them in neat little boxes until she can handle them all in turn. Part of her wants to ask how and why, but she isn’t sure it would make a difference to know. She suspects Anaxarete immediately - it makes sense that the shadow mare had created her, crafted her, and trained her. Ryatah had been a friendly face throughout her short life. Maybe she was just lucky enough to have four parents. That wasn’t so awful. And just like that, it is dealt with. This shock, this rocking of her world, and the grief are smoothed away from her with near-robotic ease as if a switch had been flipped. One more part of her heart turned into a stone box to keep things locked within. All that’s left is a cool, slightly cautious, curiosity. “Should I call you mom now?” Beyza

art by sandy--apples

@[Ryatah]