it's in my roots, in my veins - any

[Texas]

there was something in the water, now that something's in me

i can't go back, but the reeds are growing out of my fingertips

He’s not expecting to be disturbed, but the glower that he gives the bay filly who runs into him lasts only a moment. Her quick scuttle back to Ygritte’s side brings a faint smile to his dark mouth – at least she has good instincts – and he greets the pink and brown mare with a broader smile as she approaches. The mare is by far the most useful member of the kingdom – including himself – and he’s no problem taking credit for it.

She comments on the weather and he glances up before nodding in agreement. The question about his worries is given much less attention, merely a shrug and a brief shake of his head before he focuses on the filly, who has gathered enough courage to step away from her mother and try to approach again. “Hello Josselyn,” he says, stretching out his dark nose for her to touch if she wants to. Afterwards he glances over her tiny figure with an approving nod before looking back at Ygritte.

“She doesn’t look much like me,” he says, “More like your mother, I think.” She might look like her father, he supposes, but Texas is not exceptionally good with faces, even those that his daughter has recruited to the kingdom. The bay stallion, ever certain that everyone knows what he does, has never considered that Ygritte might not know that she is his daughter.

texas