04-07-2015, 09:12 PM
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away. But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play. Really, how is it even possible to be so enthusiastic. The only time she's ever felt anything even close to the exuberance of this boy is when she's been asked to serve the Valley, to fight or to mock or to whatever. But even then she isn't this way; she doesn't bounce, she is focused, excited in a purposeful way. She flicks her tail across her haunches and wonders what to do with this boy. She knows he thinks himself a warrior, and she knows that at the moment he's about as dangerous as a chicken. Probably a chicken without a beak. Or something. When she stops by the tree, the flood of questions is not unexpected, and she lets it wash over her before she responds. Once the flood waters abate and she gets her bearings back, she knows she's obligated to answer. It is strange, knowing that he's the son of Scorch. Librette does not dislike the dragon-mare; she seems to share the winged girl's own preference for war, and to some extent, her inability to word appropriately. But something about being so close with her son is just strange for the chestnut mare. But she brushes it off. It's already happened, the friendship exists, and it would be far worse to deny it, or pretend it doesn't than to simply embrace what clearly is. "No, I didn't always have wings. No, it hasn't given me any other powers. No, it doesn't take the wings away if I leave." She catches herself there, ashamed that she knows the answer to that question. The wings had remained with her always, becoming her burden, her penance when she hadn't lived within the Valley's embrace. Here they were the constant reminder of everything that her land had given her, regardless of whether or not she felt worthy. The wings were a blessing, but they were also her burden. "I don't have a clue how the jungle works. But I've heard that kingdoms can do that." she says, circling back to his question. She knows that some mythical kingdoms grant certain things and strip them away if you leave. Perhaps it would've been kinder if she had been stripped of her wings. "And actually, I'm not sure if that happens here. Getting things just for being in the ranks." it hadn't when she was here last. But with Eight and his magic at the helm of the Valley, who knows. She considers the tree for a moment, looking at it in silence before she tries to answer his next question. "I don't think that's what the tree does. At least, that's not what it's made for, I think." she pauses again. How could she really know? It had been the nexus of both her remarkable moments. "But maybe it is. I mean, it's still here after all that…stuff." She is silent again before inevitably turning to the last question he'd asked. She sighs, flicking her tail across her haunches. She never much likes thinking about her death. It's not that she's afraid of it, it just feels..uncomfortable somehow. "I don't know how it brought me back to life." she pauses again. "I was…dead," she hesitates, avoiding saying "killed", even though "killed" is definitely what it was. Hearts don't just rip themselves to shreds. "And then, I wasn't." Don't weep for me LIBRETTEBecause this will be the labor of my love.
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