The noise of someone approaching is loud enough that Mazikeen is sure it is either not a predator or, if it is, at least a very stupid one.
They speak and it’s not until Mazikeen feels a sting of disappointment that she realizes she had been harbouring some hopes about who might approach her here. And then that sting is swiftly followed by a flush of hatred for herself for being so stupid.
And then she turns to the voice and, in the dim light, makes out the shape of a colt just about the same age as she had been when she had been shredded apart and left to die in this forest.
All other thoughts flee her for a few heartbeats - she remembers it all so well. Too well.
But she had been prepared for these memories, that’s why she was here - to face them - and she’s able to bully them away and climb her way back to sense. She inhales a breath into lungs housed in a chest that is intact, and she shifts a body that is whole and strong so she can face the colt better.
When she speaks, she covers up any unease with humour and a wry smile sparks in her eyes. “I’m actually more worried about impaling my eye on a branch I can’t see than any monsters I might find out here.” It doesn’t occur to Mazikeen that this might be the sort of thing you just don’t say to a youth - it was the truth, though. At least with a monster she’d get a good fight in. She could kick and scream at a tree all she wanted but all she'd do is maybe scrape off some bark and earn some bruises (as she knew from experience).
“What about you, is that what you’re out here looking for? Monsters?”
@[Reave]