12-07-2016, 11:15 PM
The flicker of movement at the corner of her vision has Djinni turning her head toward the shore. Her sea green eyes narrow until she’s identified the distant observer as the pied Nerenian queen. The mare whinnies a greeting in reply, but she does not leave the tide pool, knowing that Nayl will come in her own time. When she does, the grey mare reaches out to bump her muzzle against the top of Nayl’s shoulder, a companionable greeting.
She turns away from the tide pool as Nayl begins to speak, feeling the slow drip of water down her neck as it darkens her own pied coat. There is more white than usual on it (though what a strange thing that there now exist others in the world that know what the ‘usual’ is with Djinni), a smattering of spots across her hindquarters, and a hint of varnish roaning along her chest and back. Otherwise, she is still the smokey grullo mare that had first followed the trail of sisters to the coast of Nerine, slim and small.
“We did,” Djinni replies, though what she had dreamed for in the future of this new land is not quite what she has gotten. It is frustrating to admit that she cannot control everything.
(Well, she could, but then where would be the fun in that?)
“Easy?” She says, gentle humor in her voice if not her expression. “Do you think that anything without blood is automatically easy?”
She shakes her neck, flinging about the dreaded locks that have begun to form hear her head.
“I think you’ve quite a long way to go with this place before you can call being queen ‘easy’.” The teasing remains in her voice as she continues, this time looking away from Nayl and at the long stretch of rocky shoreline. There is no one there. Neither Djinni nor Nayl want that to be the case – each for their own reasons – so rather than refrain from comment, Djinni asks: “Is there anything I can do to make your ruling as easy as possible?”
This time there’s a clear smile on her face, the sort of expression asibling sister gets when poking at a bit of harmless fun.
She turns away from the tide pool as Nayl begins to speak, feeling the slow drip of water down her neck as it darkens her own pied coat. There is more white than usual on it (though what a strange thing that there now exist others in the world that know what the ‘usual’ is with Djinni), a smattering of spots across her hindquarters, and a hint of varnish roaning along her chest and back. Otherwise, she is still the smokey grullo mare that had first followed the trail of sisters to the coast of Nerine, slim and small.
“We did,” Djinni replies, though what she had dreamed for in the future of this new land is not quite what she has gotten. It is frustrating to admit that she cannot control everything.
(Well, she could, but then where would be the fun in that?)
“Easy?” She says, gentle humor in her voice if not her expression. “Do you think that anything without blood is automatically easy?”
She shakes her neck, flinging about the dreaded locks that have begun to form hear her head.
“I think you’ve quite a long way to go with this place before you can call being queen ‘easy’.” The teasing remains in her voice as she continues, this time looking away from Nayl and at the long stretch of rocky shoreline. There is no one there. Neither Djinni nor Nayl want that to be the case – each for their own reasons – so rather than refrain from comment, Djinni asks: “Is there anything I can do to make your ruling as easy as possible?”
This time there’s a clear smile on her face, the sort of expression a
D J I N N I
genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster