She's got the devil's eyes
It’s freeing, in a way, to watch Astana’s endless wonder and joy in the world. Heartfire had not cared to explore her motives for bringing the child home too closely, but doing so had shifted something almost unnameable inside her. In the beginning, she had told herself Astana would stay only long enough for her parents to learn their lesson in leaving their child so unprotected and naive to the world. But now, long past the time when she should have brought her home, Heartfire is forced to admit she doesn’t wish to let her go.
Perhaps one day the golden girl would learn of her duplicity and hate her for it. For now though, she brings something into her life she hadn’t known she had been missing. Something she is loathe to let go.
It’s foolish and selfish, but Heartfire had long ago crossed the threshold of morality. She could never hope to claim any kind of purity of heart. Not anymore. Not for a very long time now.
It’s almost amusing then, that, unbeknownst to the roan queen, Astana should view her as a role model and aspire to be like her. Heartfire is and never should be anything of the sort. Perhaps when the young filly learned the truth, she might realize how mistaken she had been to place such faith in her. For now though, with such innocence still hers to cling to, Heartfire might live up to that warped truth.
She watches idly as the pale girl picks her way carefully down the treacherous cliff path to the beach below. There is a perpetual wonder that seems to surround her, something that would be inspiring were the blue and white woman not beyond redemption. Still, it’s comforting. Alluring even. It may not last forever, but in the eyes of at least one living creature she neither cruel nor callous nor manipulating. She is not catered to for what she knows or what she can do. She does not need to fear a secret desire to tear down everything she has built.
There is beauty if that simplicity.
As Astana stares at the distant horizon, Heartfire steps forward, joining her young charge at the water’s edge. Her own gaze follows, searching the mysterious distance where sky meets sea. After a moment of silence, she turns her regard to the filly, considering her briefly before asking almost absently, “How are you finding Nerine, Astana?”
and they'll cut you like a weapon