A wide, genuinely pleased smile lights up Margot’s face as Zohariel speaks. Where the sky feels big . . . Everything in Pangea feels big from the right perspective; but Margot has always appreciated how much of the world seems to exist amongst these canyon cliffs.
“The sky, the ocean, the arching canyon walls . . . you’ll find all manner of big in Pangea,” Margot answers, never taking her eyes off the stranger, even when the mare looks up. She trains a certain, perhaps intimidating, kind of intensity on Zohariel, pale eyes studying every inch of the celestial woman.
“I can tell how much you love the sky,” she murmurs, almost to herself. She blinks, slow and nearly reptilian, before answering the woman’s question. “My whole life, yes. I mean, save for when it was . . .” and it almost pains her to remember, to say it aloud, “. . . under water.” It’s only then that Margot turns her attention away from Zohariel and onto the ocean. A quiet, disgusted shiver travels down her spine.
“You should stay,” Margot states, incredibly matter of fact.
“Why do you want the sky to feel big?”
@Zohariel