04-27-2015, 12:15 AM
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away. But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play. How had she become….well, what she is? You'd think, to look at her, that she isn't evil. She definitely doesn't walk around threatening other horses. She doesn't kill without reason. In fact, if you were to compare her to the current queen of the light mythicals, her own granddaughter, no doubt Camrynn would be the more "traditional evil" of the two. But Librette herself doesn't find it a contradiction at all. To her, the Valley is simply her home, and anything that strengthens it is not just right, but necessary. His words catch her off guard, and she looks at him. This is the first time that she truly realizes that they've forged the most unlikely of friendships, that she, the old warrior, and the young stallion who had seemed so…well, goofy are getting along rather famously. That she'd get comfortable enough around him for a head bump to take her off guard. She is silent, considering as he walks around the tree. She suppresses a smile from time to time as he tries some particularly novel way of testing it out, trying to determine its contents. She understands curiosity, has felt it herself, although she's also far too shy to ever touch something as powerful as the tree. She can tell that the boy understands, that he knows there is something special, something different at work here. Perhaps this tree is a nexus of power. Perhaps it is one of many, or perhaps it is the only one. Eight might know, he might be able to understand what the tree really means, but not them – to them, it's just a tree, albeit one that obviously feels special. He returns to her side, and she regards him with unremarkable brown eyes as he speaks again, his gaze still locked on the tree. He speaks of it seeming by all rights to be entirely ordinary, and she understands something that she hasn't known for years. There is a reason that this tree took her in, a reason why it's been the nexus of so much of what has happened to her. She realizes it, and she can't help but chuckle. They're kindred spirits, she and the tree. Both of them are unremarkable, absolutely normal, but not entirely. Perhaps the tree took pity on her normalness, or perhaps there is something more. But it cannot be doubted that the two of them have a bond. "We're alike, this tree and me," she answers the question that she knows Shah will ask. She knows by now that he'll ask anything and everything he possibly can. "I wasn't anything out of the ordinary, and it changed that. It doesn't look out of the ordinary, but it is." she sighs, looking back toward the tree herself. "I wonder if it's done with me." she speaks, and it is more a statement than a question. She turns to look at him again, flicking her chestnut tail across unremarkable haunches. "Do you have a home, Shahrizai?" she asks, entirely apropos of nothing. They've been talking so much about her home, about where she lives, that she can't help herself from asking about him. "I don't just mean where you were born, or where you came from." she explains, not understanding that she probably doesn't need to. "I mean, do you have somewhere that's like this tree, for you? A place that you've really chosen to be?" It's deeper than the awkward girl usually goes, with more sentiment and dramatically more feeling. But they're by her tree, and she's feeling pensive. And besides, he started it. Don't weep for me LIBRETTEBecause this will be the labor of my love.
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