07-24-2019, 10:26 PM
It's true, Neverwhere has not done anything in her life that anyone could consider impressive. She has been a bit despicable, perhaps, in that regard. She has not stood for anything or anyone, and the boredom that has driven her has been of her own making. This is not a fact that is completely lost on her, but she is not certain that she has reached a point in her life where she is ready to make the necessary changes. She has nursed this misanthropy for long enough that it has begun to define her.
Her attention shifts sharply when the other mare's question catches her unprepared, and she lets her guard drop a bit then, tumbling through the possibilities of what she can mean.
Of course, she had known that the other had magic, you could not explain the manner of her sudden appearance, or her knowing Neverwhere's name without it. She had pushed the thought away, because so many of the other horses here have magic, you could hardly avoid it without avoiding them. And it had been the easier, more practiced option to maintain an unaffected manner than to delve into the less well known depths of conversation. However, there is a distinct difference in magic that someone else wields near you, and magic you allow them to use on you - if you can stop them.
"See... My face?" She asks, immediately annoyed with the stupidity of her own words, "I'm sorry, who are you, again?"
She asks the question like an answer will actually help. It won't, of course. The name will mean nothing to her. It simply buys time while the dappled mare considers exactly what sort of magic would be involved. She has found herself increasingly uncomfortable with magic in most, if not all, of its forms, and the idea of submitting to... whatever it is the roan has planned, sparks deep misgivings.
Although not blind, she often misses small changes of countenance, and still, she is wary of the other's purpose. The question sets her teeth on edge, and she turns her head slightly, scrutinizing the detail-less mare in an almost comically ineffectual manner. It's hard to imagine that the offer being made is a genuine, friendly, gesture. Certainly Neverwhere has done nothing to endear herself.
Her attention shifts sharply when the other mare's question catches her unprepared, and she lets her guard drop a bit then, tumbling through the possibilities of what she can mean.
Of course, she had known that the other had magic, you could not explain the manner of her sudden appearance, or her knowing Neverwhere's name without it. She had pushed the thought away, because so many of the other horses here have magic, you could hardly avoid it without avoiding them. And it had been the easier, more practiced option to maintain an unaffected manner than to delve into the less well known depths of conversation. However, there is a distinct difference in magic that someone else wields near you, and magic you allow them to use on you - if you can stop them.
"See... My face?" She asks, immediately annoyed with the stupidity of her own words, "I'm sorry, who are you, again?"
She asks the question like an answer will actually help. It won't, of course. The name will mean nothing to her. It simply buys time while the dappled mare considers exactly what sort of magic would be involved. She has found herself increasingly uncomfortable with magic in most, if not all, of its forms, and the idea of submitting to... whatever it is the roan has planned, sparks deep misgivings.
Although not blind, she often misses small changes of countenance, and still, she is wary of the other's purpose. The question sets her teeth on edge, and she turns her head slightly, scrutinizing the detail-less mare in an almost comically ineffectual manner. It's hard to imagine that the offer being made is a genuine, friendly, gesture. Certainly Neverwhere has done nothing to endear herself.
Neverwhere
.........
@[Heartfire] I have not decided if I like Neverwhere very much, Heartfire can do whatever she wants to her
