theres an old man sitting on a throne thats saying...
Amet's bright laughter distracts Iset long enough from the color changing colt. Her thoughts are momentarily diverted from the stranger in front of them as her brothers brief absence comes to mind. “You, I’ll deal with later,” she spits. She still hadn’t quite gotten over her frustration that her brother had left her for some unknown reason. Again. And refused to bring her with him.
Again.
You can see how this is becoming a trend.
A sharp, metallic taste blooms in her mouth at her brother’s kind words, “How. Many. Times. Have. I. Told. You. Not. To. Speak. For. Me,” her scathing words grow louder and louder with each one that flies from her mouth. One of the things that caused most of her and Amet’s spats in the Dunes was his love of putting words in her mouth. More than once, he had spoken on her account to try and keep Him from dealing out a punishment, triggering her sharp words and quick denial that only succeeding in provoking a crueler beating.
She sidestepped away from her brother, needing to put some space between them before she lashed out with more than her curt words. Her eyes were hardened when they flicked back to Ryan, momentarily having forgotten that the other horse was standing in front of the pair. His stuttered apology reminded her of the similar words Sakir would use to try and talk Him out of hurting her. Iset softened towards the lonely colt as the gaping hole in her that her twin used to fill widened just a little bit more.
She blushed and smirked at his words, “You think I’m pretty?” she questioned. She had never heard those words used to describe her before, and she had to admit she didn’t mind the way they sounded. He looks at her with apprehension plain on his small face before his equine frame dissolves and that of a cat takes its place.
After the shock wears off, the filly’s clear laugh rings out in disbelief and echoes across the water. “Damn,” she mutters, the words lacking their usual bite, “I wish you could teach me how to do that.” A fist of sympathy clenches around her heart at his story; one so similar to the story shared by the siblings.
“We…” she begins, slightly hesitant to tell everything to a stranger. But, she reasoned, if he was going to live here with them she might as well disclose at least as much as Ryan had. “We come from the Dunes. It’s a desert land,” she says shortly, already being transported into the fresh memories of their old home and not liking it one bit. “We never knew our father. Our mother was, and probably still is, the Queen. She was a bitch,” she said bluntly, “She didn’t give two shits about us. The horse that ruled by her side was the devil himself,” Iset’s eyes caught fire. “A few months ago, this dumbass,” she tossed her head in the vague direction of her brother, “Decided to run off in the middle of the night without telling me or my twin, Sakir.” Those same fiery eyes dropped in shame at the mention of her other brother. “And then I had to run too. But he would’t come with me.”
She straightened and narrowed her eyes, looking past Ryan’s head as though if she stared hard enough, her twin’s reflection would appear in the water. Realizing it wasn’t going to happen, her eyes met his once more. “You’re welcome to stay if you’d like.” She threw one last blistering glance in Amet’s direction, her anger still new and hot, before offering a strained smile to their new Lake-mate. Once the smile faded, Iset couldn't help letting the guilt, sorrow and anger settle in her chest. Without another word, the shiny filly wheeled around and dashed off into the trees.
...I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut