Eurwen
the secret of walking on water
is knowing where the rocks lie
is knowing where the rocks lie
The Field. It is a challenge in it’s own right for her to get here; she still looks a little scrawny, as if she is the one looking for a home instead of trying to pull others to her own. She is restoring, healing; the gleam in her eyes and the strength in her steps despite her bony appearance, reveal this to the ones who look close enough.
If they do, look close enough, the pink-dotted mare can’t tell. More often than not the metallic rose-golden gleam of her mane catches someone’s attention, or the fact that she is a full appaloosa, not many of which still present in Beqanna. Thanks, mom, for making me stand out while I don’t want or need to - but that’s not fair. Breckin was never the type to want to stand out either, and she’s pretty sure her father had good reason to be a little jealous of how many looked her way.
Her mother though - she had an inner radiance as well, a strength visible on the outside. A true fit for Nerine, as she would have been a fit for the amazons. Grammama had recruited her and she would know; she still had the rose tattoo. If she lived, that was.
She shakes her head. She’s not here for sad thoughts, not here to be compared to her mother, she wouldn’t win anyway. Not currently, but probably not ever. She’s too shy for it, she is certain - but stubborn as well. And so, a month after returning home, Eurwen wants to contribute. That’s why she’s here.
She nears a small group - mare, stallion, foal, yearling. They could have passed for one family, if the roan mare didn’t look skittish about the whole ordeal. The stallion’s scent is one she faintly recognizes. Perhaps he visited her home recently, but now he smells of pinewood and sea mist. Taiga, she thinks. It takes her a moment to place his visage; then she smiles and walks up to the three of them. ”Hello. Aten, right? I didn’t know Taiga was recruiting.” Wasn’t there a bit of a struggle? She had not paid enough attention, clearly, she chastides herself.
She shakes her head. Where are her manners? ”I’m sorry for intruding like that. I’m Eurwen, but Wen is fine,” she tells the four of them, but mostly the foals as she remembers her nickname was made up by a sister who had trouble with the ‘Aey-ohr’ sound in the first syllable. ”I’m from Nerine.”
And she smiles while she says it, proud of herself that she belongs there once more. After everything she’d been through… the waves and rocks were her home.
If they do, look close enough, the pink-dotted mare can’t tell. More often than not the metallic rose-golden gleam of her mane catches someone’s attention, or the fact that she is a full appaloosa, not many of which still present in Beqanna. Thanks, mom, for making me stand out while I don’t want or need to - but that’s not fair. Breckin was never the type to want to stand out either, and she’s pretty sure her father had good reason to be a little jealous of how many looked her way.
Her mother though - she had an inner radiance as well, a strength visible on the outside. A true fit for Nerine, as she would have been a fit for the amazons. Grammama had recruited her and she would know; she still had the rose tattoo. If she lived, that was.
She shakes her head. She’s not here for sad thoughts, not here to be compared to her mother, she wouldn’t win anyway. Not currently, but probably not ever. She’s too shy for it, she is certain - but stubborn as well. And so, a month after returning home, Eurwen wants to contribute. That’s why she’s here.
She nears a small group - mare, stallion, foal, yearling. They could have passed for one family, if the roan mare didn’t look skittish about the whole ordeal. The stallion’s scent is one she faintly recognizes. Perhaps he visited her home recently, but now he smells of pinewood and sea mist. Taiga, she thinks. It takes her a moment to place his visage; then she smiles and walks up to the three of them. ”Hello. Aten, right? I didn’t know Taiga was recruiting.” Wasn’t there a bit of a struggle? She had not paid enough attention, clearly, she chastides herself.
She shakes her head. Where are her manners? ”I’m sorry for intruding like that. I’m Eurwen, but Wen is fine,” she tells the four of them, but mostly the foals as she remembers her nickname was made up by a sister who had trouble with the ‘Aey-ohr’ sound in the first syllable. ”I’m from Nerine.”
And she smiles while she says it, proud of herself that she belongs there once more. After everything she’d been through… the waves and rocks were her home.