she's no saint but she'll take you to your knees
try her boy but she'll still do what she please
Dusted gray and gently spattered with color, patches of a dark brown seem to stretch the length of the newborn’s body and both mane and tail are a darker, fluffier sort of color. For Aysel the comedy of it really is the blanket of white dusting the body and the spots lining the back… something reminiscent in a vague way of leopard print. Still, she cannot help but study the smaller body of her daughter- peer at the thicker legs and wider frame- the well defined curve of her face. She mires in a way at the amber eyes and their golden flecks, at the expressive shape and the lining that, to us, would resemble a kohl-lined cateye.
Such is that, she notes Magnus’ approach with warmth and a certain pride: perhaps at the health of her child, or simply the fact that the youth was a would-be Amazon in her own right. No matter she knew he was there, she recognized it: the heavy footsteps and all the pacing- something she hadn’t minded. He touches her and she she chuckles: heartily and without malice, just the echoing purr and reverberation natural to her voice.
In return she places her own nose against his shoulder, gently brushing along the neck and allowing her breath to trace the lines of muscle and bone. It’s almost akin to a kiss, to the tenderness and affection plied and given to a significant loved one: though when she draws away she is quick to find her gaze leveled down as the young filly slips from her side and wobbles a few steps towards her own shoulder.
“Hard to say at this stage, but,” she is interrupted by the start of a noise- by the bleating that slowly becomes a single word. “Blyagolene.” and with that the girl is content to continue trying, slowly developing her name while Aysel looks to MAgnus with an appreciative nod.
“Segolene, yes.” Aysel corrects, and the small girl remains: her newly opened eyes all wide and staring- locked on Magnus as she lifts her small head and sniffs.
This is a smell she recognizes, one she knows; but, as her head tilts she cannot yet understand the adults and their speaking- so she listens and waits… flicking an ear and slowly curling in and around Aysel’s legs.
With no impatience and only the same pride from before, Aysel cannot do anything more than continue on with a knowing and empathetic gaze. “I feel like if you had a choice she would be much like myself and those before us: our beloved jungle cats, amazons. I would not mind either, but, the chaos of this world could very well help shape where her destiny lies.” she’d have shrugged but, rather, she reaches out against and gently bumps Magnus’ shoulder.
“Our closest neighbors inland are Sylva and the Taiga- I have not visited either recently but in time we may wish to send scouts to discover who has laid claim and what each land has become. Ischia and the Resort are both surrounded by water and likely we will not have any issue guarding those lands as claimers will need to traverse through Tephra or the ocean itself… possibly the air. Eh, but, I am here to serve in the capacity you require me as.” she begins almost lazily, like her mind had been prepared- ready and set.
Tactical and considering all things, she huffs- mulling over it as she peers down at Segolene who is just standing and watching- mouthing what her mother says and trying to imitate.
“Business aside, it is unfortunate what is going on- with the children being born now it is especially dangerous. This madness is a ladder and we are all only climbing down further into it… you’re doing what needs to be done. Magnus-” she is perhaps sentimental with his name, and it spoken with an emotion that cannot quiet be named… a sense of affection.
“She is beautiful, and you will do marvelously as a father- as a King. I believe in you.” confident, she nods- and reaching out Aysel nips playfully, yet fondly at him.
Segolene however finds this moment as time to try again, the filly’s mouth opening as she blurts an imitation of her mother’s words. “Believe in you! Father.”
@[magnus]