04-12-2015, 05:35 AM
Nothing much has changed yet. She is still the same horse, going about her daily business... but just with more responsibility now. Whereas normally she might have ventured off to the field to recruit, Pevensie instead has decided to remain within the boundaries of the kingdom, until things have settled. She expects that there must be a certain resentment, if not uncertainty, from the resident horses of the kingdom that two relatively unknowns have taken charge. They might perhaps be worried, and rightly so. If the roles were reversed, I dare say the little buckskin mare might feel the same way. Their concerns are only natural. So she decides to stay close, stay visible, provide some reassurance she isn't about to jot off on a jolly anywhere else.
The pony-mare is sunbathing by the cool of the oasis. She might have thought to go to the garden, off somewhere in the distant pink sands for more solitude, but it did occur to her that a member of Vanquish's family might still be there wanting privacy. It is not her place to intrude, not when the grief is still so fresh in their hearts. What a terrible thing it is, the loss of a family member.
She is disturbed from the peace by a black shadow approaching. Pevensie already knows who it will be, for it Camrynn had not sought her now, Pevensie had in mind to have found her later. Both knew they needed a private meeting. There were many questions left unanswered, but not from Pevensie. She rises up onto her feet, rather reluctant and cumbersome. The sand had made such a soft, cosy bed.
The black mare nods respectfully to the buckskin, and in turn Pevensie gives her a smile. She has never bowed to royalty, and she doesn't expect anyone to bow to her now she has a title. Poor Flintfoot would turn in her grave at the thought of it all and old habits die hard. "And to you too," she returns the congratulations, bumping muzzles with her adoptive daughter. She might be confused, a little disturbed even by the rapid changes in Cammies' appearance, but these thoughts stem from the concern of a parent, an inert kindness that radiates from the sun-mare. In the back of her mind though, she isn't fool enough to rule out something more sinister. Really, she has no idea what to think of it all.
Camrynn thinks first to address the Amazons, whilst Pev listens quietly. Her gaze drifts off to find Gumpy, digging a hole in the Desert sands. She isn't quite sure what to make of the strange creature yet, still uneasy gazing into human faces like his. Looking at those eyes makes her bright white scar on her chest seer as though pierced with a white-hot blade, makes her ear throb like fire. Yet, he seems fairly harmless. It'll just take getting used to, having him around.
"I've seen the magic of Beqanna do many things. I don't doubt that even the oldest magician would be no match for the faeries or gods of old. I have no intention of angering either, and I would strongly advise that you do the same. They chose to save me in the past, but equally as easily they might have killed him, or chose to do nothing and let me die," she says, closing her eyes and shuddering softly at the painful memories. However, she isn't here to dictate. If Camrynn chooses to betray the Deserts, she has a heavy price to pay in turn. Pevensie cannot make that choice on her behalf, for she firmly believes that people will do what they want irrespective of nagging. Actually, she's seen nagging push them into bad choices faster many a time.
"Before you entered, you were a yearling. How is it that now you are not?" she asks, a more than a little worried. She steps back, to eye Camrynn up properly, drink in the sight of her changed appearance. She's known the faeries to change colour before, to alter age less so. Aslyn had wandered into one and been changed purple, but they had not made her an adult. She frowns, uncomfortable with not feeling like she knew her daughter any more, sad that her childhood had been robbed from her by responsibility and meddling gods.
"As for the Amazons, there's something about Scorch I just don't trust. She was always fickle, even when I knew her years back. I can't condemn someone for not being approachable though, and I certainly can't condemn her loyalty. She will serve the Amazons with only the best intentions I am sure, but those intentions that are good for the Jungle might not be so good for us,"
The pony-mare is sunbathing by the cool of the oasis. She might have thought to go to the garden, off somewhere in the distant pink sands for more solitude, but it did occur to her that a member of Vanquish's family might still be there wanting privacy. It is not her place to intrude, not when the grief is still so fresh in their hearts. What a terrible thing it is, the loss of a family member.
She is disturbed from the peace by a black shadow approaching. Pevensie already knows who it will be, for it Camrynn had not sought her now, Pevensie had in mind to have found her later. Both knew they needed a private meeting. There were many questions left unanswered, but not from Pevensie. She rises up onto her feet, rather reluctant and cumbersome. The sand had made such a soft, cosy bed.
The black mare nods respectfully to the buckskin, and in turn Pevensie gives her a smile. She has never bowed to royalty, and she doesn't expect anyone to bow to her now she has a title. Poor Flintfoot would turn in her grave at the thought of it all and old habits die hard. "And to you too," she returns the congratulations, bumping muzzles with her adoptive daughter. She might be confused, a little disturbed even by the rapid changes in Cammies' appearance, but these thoughts stem from the concern of a parent, an inert kindness that radiates from the sun-mare. In the back of her mind though, she isn't fool enough to rule out something more sinister. Really, she has no idea what to think of it all.
Camrynn thinks first to address the Amazons, whilst Pev listens quietly. Her gaze drifts off to find Gumpy, digging a hole in the Desert sands. She isn't quite sure what to make of the strange creature yet, still uneasy gazing into human faces like his. Looking at those eyes makes her bright white scar on her chest seer as though pierced with a white-hot blade, makes her ear throb like fire. Yet, he seems fairly harmless. It'll just take getting used to, having him around.
"I've seen the magic of Beqanna do many things. I don't doubt that even the oldest magician would be no match for the faeries or gods of old. I have no intention of angering either, and I would strongly advise that you do the same. They chose to save me in the past, but equally as easily they might have killed him, or chose to do nothing and let me die," she says, closing her eyes and shuddering softly at the painful memories. However, she isn't here to dictate. If Camrynn chooses to betray the Deserts, she has a heavy price to pay in turn. Pevensie cannot make that choice on her behalf, for she firmly believes that people will do what they want irrespective of nagging. Actually, she's seen nagging push them into bad choices faster many a time.
"Before you entered, you were a yearling. How is it that now you are not?" she asks, a more than a little worried. She steps back, to eye Camrynn up properly, drink in the sight of her changed appearance. She's known the faeries to change colour before, to alter age less so. Aslyn had wandered into one and been changed purple, but they had not made her an adult. She frowns, uncomfortable with not feeling like she knew her daughter any more, sad that her childhood had been robbed from her by responsibility and meddling gods.
"As for the Amazons, there's something about Scorch I just don't trust. She was always fickle, even when I knew her years back. I can't condemn someone for not being approachable though, and I certainly can't condemn her loyalty. She will serve the Amazons with only the best intentions I am sure, but those intentions that are good for the Jungle might not be so good for us,"