07-01-2020, 11:11 AM
Eurwen
the secret of walking on water
is knowing where the rocks lie
is knowing where the rocks lie
The spotted mare doesn’t know much of Beryl, that is clear, but she is very much surprised when she claims to have a father on the Isle who took over leadership. Between her own father and Jesper, there is little likeness to see - only in mannerism, she remembers. But then Jesper’s leadership had been over more than a few years ago; Beryl would not have existed.
She tries to discern then, if there’s anyone else she could refer to, her deep brown eyes scanning the young mare - but no-one comes to mind. ”Your father?” she asks confused, but her head has already put together what her heart has not, and she makes a face. ”I for sure thought he wouldn’t do that anymore.” she sighs, then gives Beryl a weary smile. If she’s disappointed in her father, that doesn’t mean Beryl is at fault. ”I meant Nerine, but I guess the Isle could use a princess or two as well. I’m glad to meet you, sister.”
She waits a while, her daydreaming eyes wandering the moors to the north. It’s a shame she can’t meet Beryl’s mother, she thinks - see the mare who managed to distract him. She must have been pretty, with a galaxy marking and a golden coat like Beryl’s, she imagines. And all of a sudden, Eurwen doesn’t even wonder where the shadows come from, what with her grandmother manipulating both dark and light.
Which, actually, could be useful. She tilts her head at the mare, noticing how her emotions seem to alter their shape. A dark cloud settles upon her, the metaphor making more sense on Beryl than anyone else. ”Beryl? Can you transport yourself with those?”
She tries to discern then, if there’s anyone else she could refer to, her deep brown eyes scanning the young mare - but no-one comes to mind. ”Your father?” she asks confused, but her head has already put together what her heart has not, and she makes a face. ”I for sure thought he wouldn’t do that anymore.” she sighs, then gives Beryl a weary smile. If she’s disappointed in her father, that doesn’t mean Beryl is at fault. ”I meant Nerine, but I guess the Isle could use a princess or two as well. I’m glad to meet you, sister.”
She waits a while, her daydreaming eyes wandering the moors to the north. It’s a shame she can’t meet Beryl’s mother, she thinks - see the mare who managed to distract him. She must have been pretty, with a galaxy marking and a golden coat like Beryl’s, she imagines. And all of a sudden, Eurwen doesn’t even wonder where the shadows come from, what with her grandmother manipulating both dark and light.
Which, actually, could be useful. She tilts her head at the mare, noticing how her emotions seem to alter their shape. A dark cloud settles upon her, the metaphor making more sense on Beryl than anyone else. ”Beryl? Can you transport yourself with those?”
@[Beryl]