09-06-2018, 10:43 PM
She remembered magic. She remembered it like remembering the corona of warmth when someone you covet stands close but doesn't touch you. The vague recollection was a comfort in the midst of Djinni's merciful workings.
In a blink the gashes and cuts became pink scars, puckered as if with weeks of healing. Very few of them were the angry keloids they might have been without intervention. Along her cheek the scar would be forever fierce but in time would fade to match her hide.
Pain remained, but she found herself able to stand square again.
Agnieszka was bright and clean before she could turn her face back to Djinni and Stillwater again. Her head ceased aching at once and she blinked and welcomed the clarity, violet eyes flashing back to the pink tobiano with gratitude. "Thank you. Truely."
"Brown is better." Her voice more steady though still sounding out of use. A weary amusement, lacking malice. The stallion's familiarity with Djinni left Agnieszka to believe that this prank was of little consequence. Were they friends? She hadn't acquainted herself with them long enough to muddle it out. She'd lost too much of herself to measure their body language against her personal experiences.
When asked what had happened, she opened her mouth to reply and then hesitated. Attention turning inward, riffling through whatever she could find in her head and coming up empty. "I don't know. My name is Agnieszka, and I've come a long way but I can't say from where or why....there's ...nothing." Her words ended in bewildered sound, almost like a question. She could find her name but little else. A few shadows. Though she felt far more normal there was still a vast emptiness in her.
"I feel as though I'm waking up far from where I went sleep." Agnieszka murmured, mostly to herself. Directing her attention back to Stillwater as her assured her of her safety. She flicked her eyes at Djinni, and then back to the stallion, still handsome in his mud-brown suit. A King and Queen then? She dropped her head a degree in instinctual deference to the implication.
...forests? The change in her body language was immediate. Muscles in her shoulders shuddered and her grey hooves shifted to chip up the frozen earth and snow. Shapely ears dropping back into her tangled black streaked mane, voice tight and hard. "No." No forests. Her eyes became flat chips of amethyst in her silver face. "I've no interest in forests. Thank you."
She felt all the more unmoored by her own reaction but it was too late to take it back. Her heart raced and then slowed leaving a hole full of embarrassment in her chest. She had received warm reception here and repaid it with what felt and looked like madness. Expression softening she said "I'm sorry. I am still very tired."
agnieszka
an unequaled gift for disaster