Rage is an emotion with which she has had her share of familiarity. They way it burns hot and painful inside one’s gut, the bubble inside your chest that feels as though it might burst at any moment. Oh, she knows it well. The difference though, is the way in which one not just holds their rage, but utilizes it. Heartfire, ever the patient one, had allowed the fury to crystalize, to harden and cool inside her chest until revenge had been born of ice rather than fire. The satisfaction is far greater when one considers their options, chooses the one that will hurt the most, the one that will put pressure just where it is most painful. And that is the difference between the two women. Where the golden one expends her rage rapidly, a hot and fierce burst of action that could only fizzle quickly, Heartfire had instead allowed hers to grow cold, hard. A fuel that had sustained her through these long months.
A wicked gleam crosses those blue eyes as Ellyse reacts sharply to her baiting words. A reaction that is far from unexpected to the roan mare. She allows her to push her back against the tree, meeting fierce, angry eyes with one’s of chilly steel. As the bark scrapes roughly against her skin, she makes a low sound of disapproval, a tsking noise too clearly disparaging the golden mare’s thoughtless actions.
For a moment, the bone presses uncomfortably against her skin, but a single thought has the sharp spike falling away into dust (does it hurt, to lose that bit of bone, as unnatural as it had been? She almost hopes it does). She is briefly tempted to press closer, to draw whatever discomfort she can from the woman, but she does not trust her to keep her bones to herself despite Heartfire’s offhand display of her own prowess. From this distance at least, she could have the time she needed to react, to break those spikes apart before they could become deadly. Confident she might be, but certainly not stupid, nor suicidal.
“Oh? So you do care after all?” she quips rather glibly, despite her apparent situation. Ellyse might hold her against this tree, but it is only because Heartfire allows it. “I had begun to wonder. Though I daresay he has rather begun to enjoy my company, a year is a long time.”
Though it is left unsaid, the implication is quite clear. A year is a long time to be held captive with none the wiser, especially when it comes to family.
