12-04-2019, 05:31 AM
Eurwen
the secret of walking on water
is knowing where the rocks lie
is knowing where the rocks lie
She doesn’t exactly understand how all these horses relate; how they know one another. Aten had ruled the Taiga before she figuratively fell off the face of the earth, so the smell on him and his description, had her place him fairly easily. The rumors of unrest, she had not been able to escape even in her limited interaction with the rest of the world; and as a Nerinian and former-heir, she thought it her duty to at least keep up with the latest news about the kingdom and its territories.
The fact that he calls it an incident with outside kingdoms, plural, however makes her frown at him a little. What does that mean? They are Nerine, all of them, to her. Or does he think to be independent on his own? With no territory beneath them, would Taiga even be a kingdom? Did he mean to drop Nerine because a Loessian had decided to upheave the balance?
The rose-marked mare stares in the distance a moment, looking through Aten more than she looks at him. When she comes to her senses, her head almost shakes, but she collects herself. The fact that the Taigans think of themselves as a wholly independent land, says a lot, but she’s not here for politics; not looking for a discussion. She’ll save it for a later date.
She doesn’t recognize the others in the group, but the red mare does smell of the same pinewoods, and the familiarity between her and Aten makes it obvious that she is not only a resident of the redwoods, but perhaps also a friend of his, at the least. Lilliana greets the roan mare like an old friend, and the feathered filly as well. Ruth, she is called, a short for Ruthless, Eurwen learns.
Part of the conversation then, is this lost on her as she considers what Aten is saying, and keeps implying between the lines. They are separating themselves then, she finds. If not in name then certainly in spirit. She turns to Lilliana and Brine, then eyes Ruth, wondering what they think.
The filly seems uneager to leave her mother - to separate; about as much as Eurwen does not wish to separate Taiga and Nerine. If they belong together and symbiose well, then why split up at all? The question is in her dark pools as she makes eye contact with the chestnut mare, but as Brine seems to have already made her decision, it is entirely out of Eurwen’s grasp. The roan seems to think it’s a good thing to let go of her daughter, perhaps it was her own idea; the metallic-maned mare doesn’t see why. She knows her twin and she were as night and day as well, and it never hurt them either to live in the same land. But perhaps the context is different… she had lived in a lively kingdom, with others to turn to when she didn’t feel like joining her sister’s games; Ruth seemed to be with her mother only, wandering the common lands.
”You’re not truly separating,” she tells the yearling filly, feeling it is important that she knows that she can always come by. ”Taiga is a territory of Nerine. The border is virtually nonexistent between our lands.” At least, as far as Eurwen was concerned. Taigans are as home in Nerine as any who call the cliffs their home. If they want to be, is another question, but it never hurts to be welcoming, she thinks.
Brine asks for the way, and Eurwen’s dark eyes move to meet the roan mare’s; she nods solemnly. ”Of course. It’s due north; just past Taiga. We can travel as a group if you want, or leave now if you want to reach it before dark.”
The fact that he calls it an incident with outside kingdoms, plural, however makes her frown at him a little. What does that mean? They are Nerine, all of them, to her. Or does he think to be independent on his own? With no territory beneath them, would Taiga even be a kingdom? Did he mean to drop Nerine because a Loessian had decided to upheave the balance?
The rose-marked mare stares in the distance a moment, looking through Aten more than she looks at him. When she comes to her senses, her head almost shakes, but she collects herself. The fact that the Taigans think of themselves as a wholly independent land, says a lot, but she’s not here for politics; not looking for a discussion. She’ll save it for a later date.
She doesn’t recognize the others in the group, but the red mare does smell of the same pinewoods, and the familiarity between her and Aten makes it obvious that she is not only a resident of the redwoods, but perhaps also a friend of his, at the least. Lilliana greets the roan mare like an old friend, and the feathered filly as well. Ruth, she is called, a short for Ruthless, Eurwen learns.
Part of the conversation then, is this lost on her as she considers what Aten is saying, and keeps implying between the lines. They are separating themselves then, she finds. If not in name then certainly in spirit. She turns to Lilliana and Brine, then eyes Ruth, wondering what they think.
The filly seems uneager to leave her mother - to separate; about as much as Eurwen does not wish to separate Taiga and Nerine. If they belong together and symbiose well, then why split up at all? The question is in her dark pools as she makes eye contact with the chestnut mare, but as Brine seems to have already made her decision, it is entirely out of Eurwen’s grasp. The roan seems to think it’s a good thing to let go of her daughter, perhaps it was her own idea; the metallic-maned mare doesn’t see why. She knows her twin and she were as night and day as well, and it never hurt them either to live in the same land. But perhaps the context is different… she had lived in a lively kingdom, with others to turn to when she didn’t feel like joining her sister’s games; Ruth seemed to be with her mother only, wandering the common lands.
”You’re not truly separating,” she tells the yearling filly, feeling it is important that she knows that she can always come by. ”Taiga is a territory of Nerine. The border is virtually nonexistent between our lands.” At least, as far as Eurwen was concerned. Taigans are as home in Nerine as any who call the cliffs their home. If they want to be, is another question, but it never hurts to be welcoming, she thinks.
Brine asks for the way, and Eurwen’s dark eyes move to meet the roan mare’s; she nods solemnly. ”Of course. It’s due north; just past Taiga. We can travel as a group if you want, or leave now if you want to reach it before dark.”