[private] In Hell I'll be in good company // Lilliana

[lilliana]

The scars that mar her are, perhaps, the hardest part of this.

Lilliana has been good at hiding them. She’s had a whole lifetime to practice hiding the ones that have torn her apart on the inside; now there is physical proof that something is wrong. She can’t hide these scars and it only sears the shame deeper into her skin. Eventually, they will fade and the light will right itself but for now, everything about her is left exposed to the arid Pangean air.

The nicks in her crimson pelt. The faint outline of her ribs near her topline. A gauntness haunting her hips. An exhaustion burning behind her eyes from a mind that rarely stills.

"Icicle Isle,” she quips in return, "the one that was just razed by Castile.”

Stop, she tells herself. This stranger came offering help and certainly didn’t deserve a sardonic answer. Lilliana exhales, reminding herself that horses come from places like Ischia or Island Resort where islands dot the horizon like wildflowers. It’s not like the North - not where there is only one Isle.

"Thank you,” Lilli replies with a soft apology lingering underneath the words. The chestnut mare meets the blue eyes of the magenta pegasus briefly. Pangea, for as wide and far this desert kingdom stretches, seems to do the same to some of its captives; it’s a quiet connection of knowing they’ve both been probably stretched to one limit or another.

She could almost laugh at the mention of a lover. It nearly scoffs her tongue. The thought makes her stomach clench into a knot and her swollen barrel cramps in response. Careful, Lilliana reminds herself and shifts her own weight in response, moving from one hip to the other. She has to be so, so careful with this child.

Home makes her ache. Yanhua. Nashua. Her whole world is in those woods and she is stuck here, contemplating if there is anything worse out there. Lilliana, who had failed her family the first time, fails them again a second time.

Is there really anything worse than this?
No word comes from Nerine. Nothing from Taiga.
(Your fault.)

It’s like she’s back at her beginning: "No,” Lilliana admits for the second time, "nobody is looking for me.” She knows what the other mare is asking about, motioning to her swollen stomach. the copper mare would rather pretend to be oblivious. She’s learned that some things are better left to the unknown. Some questions are best if never asked at all.

"I didn’t get your name.” Turning her head to appraise the brightly-colored pegasus again, "I’d like to know who to thank when I get out of this Hell.”

@[Rebelle]