08-06-2020, 02:51 PM
GRETA
I once held your soldier heart between my war teeth; shook it like a dog with a bone until it knew the fear of good love.
" Do you remember? "
She is perhaps brand new, compared to what beings stood before her. She is unfamiliar with a home - whether this or another. She has known nothing except a vague moment of Ghaul, before once again she was swept up and locked away into her father’s magical force. She is a child still, something akin to innocence and wonder (and perhaps fear, too). She knows nothing of the land she walks on, nor of the history of the magnificent mares before her.
What she knows is this: she is back again, thrown to the wind as per when Eight becomes bored. She is lost again, in a land she knows nothing of. She is alone again, as she never had someone to begin with. What does one do when they know so little? They flounder, they wander, they startle in the dark of the night, and seek out anything that resembles serenity. She is unaware of just how little tranquility she may find in the depths of the two before her. From her viewpoint tucked with her back to the foliage (a safe place with a view of the meadow and nothing to fear at her back), she sees simplicity: two mares without markings or magic, quiet and calm in the sprawling vastness of the common land.
Go to her. Her father’s voice cracks through her skull - a command that rings sharp and bright despite the respite she has had from his voice for so long. She does not understand the excitement that would thrill through his spine upon seeing the two before her - but she will listen well.
Her tentative steps take her towards the two mares who may be relics of Beqanna - and her small voice carries out, as she catches the last of Straia’s words. “ How.. how old are you?”