CASIMIRA
dragon-shifting daughter of ashhal and ryatah
She straightens herself when the other mare speaks to her, and she offers her a thin smile. The warmth that does not reach her eyes is not because she is displeased at the idea of conversation; in fact, she welcomes it. There is just a small, insecure part of her that always feels as though she is going to be disliked. She is sure most of that stems from knowing she hides something from every stranger she meets. The dragon part of her is too feral, too difficult to control, and so she keeps it caged – no matter how fiercely it fights against its bars.
And she hates that she feels guilty because of it.
She is ashamed that she has always been so afraid of it that she never learned to control it.
She is ashamed that everyone she meets, she keeps this part of herself hidden, and wonders if it is obvious that she is hiding something.
Her light blue eyes again look into the darker blue of the mare’s, and then to the proud antlers that reach towards a snowy sky. There is something sure about her, something that indicates that she likely has never hidden a part of herself ever in her life. It is an envious thought, but what born more of admiration than true jealousy. Her smile earns a bit more depth, and she turns her eyes skyward to the clouds where a few flakes have begun to lazily descend from. “Do you not get much snow where you live?” She asks her, remembering how her birthplace rarely ever got snow – much too warm and tropical, but she and Cassian had never failed to venture far enough to find whatever Tephra could not offer them.
And then, remembering her manners through her uneasy nerves, “My name is Casimira.”
@[Warlight]