[open] not by fire, yet forged in flame;

[Viszla]

Myrna suffocate the fire  i started-------------------- right when it kindles She has lived in peace for the past five years, and while she supposes that the dusty black (maybe bay? she can’t be sure beneath the dirt) stallion might be dangerous, its not as though she is defenseless if he suddenly turns monstrous. Her transition from an aspen is not a feat she’ll be repeating soon, but there is enough buzzing magic left in her veins for a little bit of shifting. He seems as uninterested in continuing the discussion of bad magics, and she is grateful to move past it, offering him an understanding nod. “I will show you a place.” The palomino confirms, offering a faint smile as she moves closer and acknowledges his appreciation. Not too close, for these are the common lands, and for all her abilities she is still cautious first and foremost. Friendly, but from a distance. As he speaks, Myrna finds her pace with one ear flicked toward him. She blinks in surprise, and looks toward him again. “Like me?” She asks, brows rising in disbelief even as she continues in the direction of the Meadow. “Your idea of a dream will change quite a bit, if you think me remarkable.” She tests her magic, and decides that she has enough remaining to rid herself of anything not mundanely equine when they reach the water. Her glowing horns, the flowers, and the long mane, she thinks. Myrna wants to know what she might have looked like, at the dawn of time. Or whenever it was that Judas had come from. “There are four main lands,” she continues, because that seems important, “I suppose they’d be the kingdoms, but they mostly keep to themselves.” There’d been diplomacy once, she knows. But there had also been war, and Myrna knows which she prefers by far. @Judas