Kagerus reads her body language all too well, almost immediately asking her to stay, but Briseis is hesitant, although she does not shy away from her touch. She was terrible at making conversation, and the fact that most were too kind to tell her so and suffered through her awkward attempts at small talk just made her feel worse about it. But her dark brown eyes flit to the face of the newcomer, and she feels guilty. The black mare knew what it was like to be new, to feel out of place, almost like you were just in everyone’s way. She isn’t sure if Beqanna or Hyaline will ever feel like a true home to her, but she was doing her best to try and fit into some sort of mold, in attempt to keep her loneliness at bay.
There is a flicker of panic when the painted mare makes it clear that she will be leaving them, and Briseis is already worrying about how in the world she’s going to manage to not scare the stallion off, or at least not make the situation so awkward that she will have to avoid him for the rest eternity. But as Kagerus makes her exit she becomes all the more acutely aware of his presence, eyeing him cautiously from behind her own tangled veil of forelock. It’s funny, if only she could read his thoughts. He finds himself feeling shameful of the way he looks when to Briseis he is the most normal horse she has come across since arriving here. The wings, the scales, the horns, the vibrant colors - she doesn’t understand any of it. But a wry mouth that she hardly notices, and other physical differences that he keeps hidden, she doesn’t dwell on any of it.
In fact the only thing she notices is the similar tension that hums in between them. They are clearly both out of their element, but she welcomes the sound of his rough voice, since it gives her something to answer. ”I’ve only been here a few weeks. I’ve been in Beqanna a bit longer, but I didn’t have any place that I lived.” Her own voice, while not as sing song and melodic as some, was much softer in comparison to his. ”Kagerus brought me here, too. She seems to be good at finding a home for wayward souls,” she says with a slight laugh, which came across as unnatural since she felt so out of place during this meeting. She sighs, shaking her head and offering softly,”I’m sorry, I’m really not good at this whole, um, talking thing.”
@[Hephaestus]
There is a flicker of panic when the painted mare makes it clear that she will be leaving them, and Briseis is already worrying about how in the world she’s going to manage to not scare the stallion off, or at least not make the situation so awkward that she will have to avoid him for the rest eternity. But as Kagerus makes her exit she becomes all the more acutely aware of his presence, eyeing him cautiously from behind her own tangled veil of forelock. It’s funny, if only she could read his thoughts. He finds himself feeling shameful of the way he looks when to Briseis he is the most normal horse she has come across since arriving here. The wings, the scales, the horns, the vibrant colors - she doesn’t understand any of it. But a wry mouth that she hardly notices, and other physical differences that he keeps hidden, she doesn’t dwell on any of it.
In fact the only thing she notices is the similar tension that hums in between them. They are clearly both out of their element, but she welcomes the sound of his rough voice, since it gives her something to answer. ”I’ve only been here a few weeks. I’ve been in Beqanna a bit longer, but I didn’t have any place that I lived.” Her own voice, while not as sing song and melodic as some, was much softer in comparison to his. ”Kagerus brought me here, too. She seems to be good at finding a home for wayward souls,” she says with a slight laugh, which came across as unnatural since she felt so out of place during this meeting. She sighs, shaking her head and offering softly,”I’m sorry, I’m really not good at this whole, um, talking thing.”
briseis.
you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
@[Hephaestus]