Warlight likes that laugh. It echoes across the water and sparks a deep chuckle at the base of her own throat. But when Lilliana mentions the fairies, her smile fades. "Carnage... actually." She says after a pause, only because to say nothing feels like a lie.
They walk a fine line; their conversation balancing painful truths and something more flirtatious. Light and dark - hurt masked by dry, dark humor. Much of Will's life had been that way, and she didn't think she was unique in that. It was a brutal world they had been born into, a double-edged birth-right they inherited. She is aware her experiences are not unique, and that the woman before her carries burdens, carefully concealed behind her sparkling eyes and easy conversation.
Will hadn't realized all of this as they bantered, falling into the give-and-take of meeting someone new. But the half-murmured words of the copper mare solidified these thoughts. Enough for Will to understand that those words were personal.
"Who is it then," she asks, her own voice equally lowered as a thrum of anticipation reverberates through her body. This was it, after six months of stalling, she would set off to call on the dark god and claim what was hers. She would be given what she always wanted or be struck down by a vengeful god. Either way, she would be facing her destiny in the morning, and she would rid herself of this sickness or die trying. It would get her in the end anyway if she didn't.
"I'll owe you, after this."
It's a statement said with enough certainty to make it clear she means it, that at this moment she would be willing to take on whoever it was Lilliana asked her to. But now is not yet that time, she takes a deep breath and lets her eyes close, growing still and quiet for whatever it was the healer would have to do.
— soul as sweet as blood red jam —
![[Image: Warlightpageddoll1.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/NMPHtrtV/Warlightpageddoll1.png)