05-06-2020, 01:49 PM
I am not naturally inclined to kindness, or charity or any of the other things good folk do for each other. Surviving, first my own mother and then the myriad of horses I had met since escaping leaving her side. It was easy enough when I went around assuming all I encountered were either enemies or too weak to be anything but playthings.
Draco was another thing. If I had known, or thought to ask, we might have realized that the scars on our backs would match up next to one another. Might have pushed me to think of us as more kindred things in the hellhole we were bleaching to death in. It doesn't cry cross my mind though. My only motivation is a vague sense of prisoner solidarity, and perhaps a taste of gratitude behind it.
My ears prick as she speaks, face impassive, maybe even a bit bored, but I nod anyway. "Leilan of..." I scowl, one brow lifted. "I understand if your brain is boiled by now, but if you want my help you'll have to be more specific. There's like, a bunch of islands in the sea." At least the message was simple. I'd probably remember it by the time I was able to get it to Leilan of Wherever.
She's obviously thinking hard, and a bit mopey, and I'm sure she's got family worried about her. She's very clearly the kind of mare people care about. Maybe enough even to send a rescue party for, like lucky miss Oceane had been. With a short, I shake off the glum direction my thoughts are heading in. I know I said I was going home. But it really doesn't feel like it.
My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth while she considers her next request, and I swear by gods and fairies if she's got me tramping off to another opposite corner of the country she's just going to have to live with the disappointment cause damn am I already tired of the idea. But she finally gets her ask in order and I shrug in acceptance of it.
"Meeting for Leilan, sorry for Neverwhere," I echo. Wouldn't that be an awkward thing to mix up. I pretend not to see her eyes glossing up, which is as close as I can get to being comforting. Plainly she has been through a lot and I might actually feel bad for mocking her tears. Yay, character development, I guess.
Not a lot, mind you. Not enough to stop a wicked, if tired grin from flashing across my face at the mention of a debt owed. I was going to do it for free, but this certainly sweetens the deal. Enough that I make myself silently promise that I won't mix up the messages.
Uncomfortably swollen, I roll my neck to relieve a little of the pressure my spine is resentful of carrying. Body and soul, I am very much over this whole pregnancy thing. Assuming I get the choice in the future, it's never happening again. The chestnut mare looks in similar condition though, and it makes me curious. "So Lilliana of Taiga," I say, demonstrating that I did in fact catch her name. "Got a lover back home worried sick? Or did one of the locals decide to embed their spawn in you too?" That could be interesting. I've seen the locals, and it's a rare one that wouldn't make for a freakish baby. Something to look forward to, I guess.
@[lilliana]
Draco was another thing. If I had known, or thought to ask, we might have realized that the scars on our backs would match up next to one another. Might have pushed me to think of us as more kindred things in the hellhole we were bleaching to death in. It doesn't cry cross my mind though. My only motivation is a vague sense of prisoner solidarity, and perhaps a taste of gratitude behind it.
My ears prick as she speaks, face impassive, maybe even a bit bored, but I nod anyway. "Leilan of..." I scowl, one brow lifted. "I understand if your brain is boiled by now, but if you want my help you'll have to be more specific. There's like, a bunch of islands in the sea." At least the message was simple. I'd probably remember it by the time I was able to get it to Leilan of Wherever.
She's obviously thinking hard, and a bit mopey, and I'm sure she's got family worried about her. She's very clearly the kind of mare people care about. Maybe enough even to send a rescue party for, like lucky miss Oceane had been. With a short, I shake off the glum direction my thoughts are heading in. I know I said I was going home. But it really doesn't feel like it.
My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth while she considers her next request, and I swear by gods and fairies if she's got me tramping off to another opposite corner of the country she's just going to have to live with the disappointment cause damn am I already tired of the idea. But she finally gets her ask in order and I shrug in acceptance of it.
"Meeting for Leilan, sorry for Neverwhere," I echo. Wouldn't that be an awkward thing to mix up. I pretend not to see her eyes glossing up, which is as close as I can get to being comforting. Plainly she has been through a lot and I might actually feel bad for mocking her tears. Yay, character development, I guess.
Not a lot, mind you. Not enough to stop a wicked, if tired grin from flashing across my face at the mention of a debt owed. I was going to do it for free, but this certainly sweetens the deal. Enough that I make myself silently promise that I won't mix up the messages.
Uncomfortably swollen, I roll my neck to relieve a little of the pressure my spine is resentful of carrying. Body and soul, I am very much over this whole pregnancy thing. Assuming I get the choice in the future, it's never happening again. The chestnut mare looks in similar condition though, and it makes me curious. "So Lilliana of Taiga," I say, demonstrating that I did in fact catch her name. "Got a lover back home worried sick? Or did one of the locals decide to embed their spawn in you too?" That could be interesting. I've seen the locals, and it's a rare one that wouldn't make for a freakish baby. Something to look forward to, I guess.
@[lilliana]