She's got the devil's eyes
One thing Heartfire has found to be true over and over again, is that there is rarely a wrong choice. Choices are, most often, merely a reflection of those making them. Certainly there are poor choices. But wrong? Well, she has seen many make what others would deem a wrong choice and come out far ahead. Just as she has seen many make what might be considered the correct choice regret their decisions immensely.
In the end, it really seems to be about what one wants, consequences be damned. Even Heartfire doesn’t quite have that perfected, no matter how much knowledge she has at her disposal.
She can see the woman’s decision before she ever utters it out loud. It’s there, in the subtle gleam of her eye, the faintly unwilling prick of interest, a hint of greed as she mulls over what it might entail. In the end, it wasn’t really even a choice at all. Only the cautious and fearful would decline such an offer. The ones who had something to lose.
And if Neverwhere truly has anything left to lose, Heartfire would eat her tail.
A gleam of satisfaction flashes across her blue gaze as the dappled mare gives her consent. Heartfire tilts her head, stepping closer (just a whisper of hooves across frozen ground, not near enough to touch). “You’d be a fool to trust me,” Heartfire agrees mildly, voice lilting slightly. “And a bigger one had you declined.”
Perhaps not the kindest thing to say, but she is not often kind in her honesty.
For a span of time, only her breath indicates her continued presence, but as she meddles with eyesight not her own, the world would no doubt soon become much clearer for the scarred woman. A haze lifting, the sharp features of the mottled blue and white mare coming into focus, blue eyes unnaturally bright in the mask of black and white. Until, moments later, the face is replaced by another. A perfect replica of the woman before her, with chapped, pink cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.
and they'll cut you like a weapon