07-16-2015, 09:55 PM
we are living in a material world,
and i am a material girl
♦ ♦ ♦
He mumbles some words about his color, and she purses her lips and listens. He speaks haltingly, as though he isn't entirely sure how to speak at all, and Ketterley barely manages to contain her disdain. Above all, the buckskin girl thinks of herself as a lady, and tiny though she is she's quite skilled at conversation. How could this boy, a bit older than she, have managed to escape it so entirely?
She's about to say something, and it's probably about to be biting and caustic, when she feels the sharp bite of a fly on her left shoulder.
She gasps shrilly, half-rearing up in total surprise. She hasn't felt anything like this in the entirety of her young life, and she very much does not like the sensation. As it happens, she's not a fan of pain or discomfort of any kind – it's why she tends to frequent the oasis – and this is both, seeming to her on a very high order.
A tiny bit of blood stains her coat from the bite, and she purses her lips in displeasure. It's not just discomfort now, it's not just pain – it got something on her coat. Sure, it won't scar, and it won't be a problem the next time she takes a dip in the oasis, but for now, she is very unhappy with it.
Acting purely on instinct, she turns around to nip at the creature perched on her shoulder. Being entirely non-magical herself, it never occurs to Ketterley that the fly is anything but a fly. It may be huge, the timing of its bite may be far from coincidental, but in her simple world horses are horses and apart from her father's wings and her mother's sunlight magic, that's about all there is to it. Little does she know.
After trying her darndest to scratch the fly off in as dainty a fashion as possible, Ketterley remembers that there's a boy there too. And he'd been rather upset about something. "Wrong? What do you mean?" she speaks too slowly, too clearly, although she's honestly convinced that's the best way to communicate effectively with him. "It is…flashy, I'll give you that, but I think it fits you." It could be a kind thing to say, but she doesn't mean it kindly. She is lying through her teeth and she knows it - she's entirely convinced it doesn't suit him and in fact doesn't suit anyone. He's a boy, and boys aren't meant to look like he looks. They're meant to be dashing and gallant and handsome and strong, like her father. This boy is small and weak and thin. And he isn't even good with words.
Ketterley
perfect little princess of hurricane and pevensie
Yessss I love this thread <3