Know the man, know the mask; Ajatar

[Ajatar]

ajatar

devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest;
angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress.

They fall into easy step - each leaving a bit of space between the other, but with a familiarity of friends. Friend. She considers the word to herself, nodding at how right it seems. She never considered the horses of her past to be friends so much as those invested in her personally. They wanted something from her, at an early age she knew this - but they did not bother to hide it. It did not occur to her that some would hide their hope to draw out her ... ability ... so as not to scare her away.

Friend, yes - Longclaw was her friend.

"Your mock?" she asks, unaware what that means. War runs in her blood further back than most - her mothers line held Amazonian war generals, starters of war, kings and queens...but she knew nothing of this. Her naive childhood involve no war. Really, Beqanna hadn't seen war in many, many years. Destruction, yes, but mostly at the hands of the fairies.

And then - the offer.

"Yes!" she cries, almost too excited, but she doesn't think to draw back. "Yes, that would be wonderful!"