Burr nears the stream that cut through the heart of the meadow; all she can think about is how they have never been apart. Not for more than an hour or so, and always for less than a second and if apart - they kept well within one another's line of sight. She cannot fathom how this had come to be, their separation, although it is thirst that stops her feet at the edge of the stream.
She stares at her reflection, a striped face with sad terrified eyes staring back at her. Burr snorts; she doesn't like the pitiful look of herself and dashes her reflection with a hoof, making it waver and ripple outward. She feels anger then, that he could so cruelly and easily leave her without so much as a parting touch or word. How could he! Her hoof strikes the stream again and she is too caught up in her angst-filled attack on the stream to notice the behemoth’s approach.
(It is likely that he had been there all along, beside that stream and bore witness to her silly burst of anger; that she simply never noticed him in her pathetic self-absorbed way.)
Burr spooks visibly at the quiet boom of his voice; he is so large and concerned, unlike her brother was. It makes her wary but there is only the stream and the spotted giant that dwarfs her in comparison. “Yes,” she says and knows it to be a lie instantly. She feels frayed, nervous, even though he is nothing but kind; “No, not really.” said with a sigh, a wayward glance towards anything but him - not because he is reminiscent of her lost twin (they are so opposite one another!), merely that she feels undeserving of his comfort.
It is not lost on her that he tries; she's just thoroughly lost and the light dims in her eyes at the poor reality of that. For so long she has been MandrakeandBurr and now she's just Burr and she doesn't know who that is. “I'm lost,” she murmurs, beseeching him with her eyes for understanding.
She stares at her reflection, a striped face with sad terrified eyes staring back at her. Burr snorts; she doesn't like the pitiful look of herself and dashes her reflection with a hoof, making it waver and ripple outward. She feels anger then, that he could so cruelly and easily leave her without so much as a parting touch or word. How could he! Her hoof strikes the stream again and she is too caught up in her angst-filled attack on the stream to notice the behemoth’s approach.
(It is likely that he had been there all along, beside that stream and bore witness to her silly burst of anger; that she simply never noticed him in her pathetic self-absorbed way.)
Burr spooks visibly at the quiet boom of his voice; he is so large and concerned, unlike her brother was. It makes her wary but there is only the stream and the spotted giant that dwarfs her in comparison. “Yes,” she says and knows it to be a lie instantly. She feels frayed, nervous, even though he is nothing but kind; “No, not really.” said with a sigh, a wayward glance towards anything but him - not because he is reminiscent of her lost twin (they are so opposite one another!), merely that she feels undeserving of his comfort.
It is not lost on her that he tries; she's just thoroughly lost and the light dims in her eyes at the poor reality of that. For so long she has been MandrakeandBurr and now she's just Burr and she doesn't know who that is. “I'm lost,” she murmurs, beseeching him with her eyes for understanding.