She's got the devil's eyes
The shadows have grown long and heavy in her absence, but is not unusual for the blue and white woman to spend the long hours of the night casting out into the world. It is an ideal time for those who wish to remain unobtrusive and unseen. And for someone like Heartfire, the lack of sunlight is hardly a barrier to her activities.
It’s true this land is brimming with the odd and unusual. The brightly colored and the outlandish of guise. Though she is not one of them, she has seen more than enough of the world to know it becomes less and less common with each passing day to find one who lacks such embellishments. Once upon a time, they might have been rare (she had seen that time, though not in person. Still, it is a curious thing), but no longer.
Sometimes though, it behooves one to blend so well they might fade into the background. Sometimes, it is better to be so unnoticeable.
And that is perhaps why Heartfire so often takes note of the seemingly unnotable. Why she might now choose to approach a lovely dappled mare in the meadow though she appears to be a creature of the most ordinary variety. Why she so easily looks past that, to the woman beneath.
To a woman who seeks a purpose.
She is all but invisible in the thick shadows of the early evening as she approaches the duo, but she makes no effort to remain unnoticed. Her eyes are sharp, piercing the darkness to unerringly find the two woman. Her gaze passes curiously over the golden-tipped woman who smells of Hyaline before settling on the dapple rose. There is nothing remarkable in the mottled pewter and white of her slim form, nothing to make her stand apart from any other unless you count the startling blue of her eyes. Of course, in this world, it would be a mistake to discount anything.
“Hello,” she greets them, her voice a smooth, low lilt. She watches Oona curiously for a moment before continuing rather boldly, “We are all from somewhere, but that’s hardly what matters, is it?” She tilts her head slightly, the corners of her lips quirking in a barely there upturn. “I’m far more interested in where you’re going.”
Her gaze turns then to the other mare briefly, eyeing the woman momentarily before glancing back at Oona. Finally she introduces herself, as directly as she had greeted them. “I am Heartfire.”
and they'll cut you like a weapon