They are strong, they are warriors, they are… powerful. They are the last remnants of a terrific bloodline. They approach the girl and look her over. She buckles only slightly under their gazes, but recovers herself. Hestia’s lip twitches with a small breath let from her nostrils. Yes she needs time. Time to heal and solidify herself. She’s not one that often needs to adjust, life just seems to part and flow around her as a river does with a rock. Very few times has she had to adjust. When she does, she does not respond all that kindly towards the object she sees as forcing her to adjust, and anyone else that happens to be around at the time.
Today it’s Scorch and a child. But she doesn’t curl her lips or tell them to go fuck themselves. She takes comfort in her friends presence even if she can’t bring herself to physically make contact. The green eyed queen focuses on the girl while she speaks. Thank you for coming. she replies with her soft voice. The influx of children in Nerine is a sign of their strength here. The fear and uncertainty have begun to run its course and Nerine will continue in its strength. Her gaze wavers when she sees Scorches ears flipping back. The black mare can only guess as to why, and inwardly she groans.
She catches the others eye for a moment, her own thoughts walled away behind icy steel. They would have words. But not here, not in front of this child. Scorch makes a statement, one that is loaded with the warning of a pending conversation. Hestia doesn’t respond, she saves that for later. Wishbone takes their attention once more before the silence grows awkward. It’s not from here, that is for sure. Her lips press in a thin line listening to Scorch’s reassurances for the child.
While they speak her gaze drifts to the sea, dark and brooding. Lost in thought, a pair of eyes haunt her vision, grayish lavender, stormy as the ocean on a warm summer morning. Sweet and spicy musk floods her nostrils and she breaths it into every fiber of her lungs until it is all she can smell. Almost vibrating with the rumble of the voice… It’s a ache she’s familiar with and one that she never wanted to be reacquainted with. Yet here she stands and it consumes her mind, body and soul.
~~~
It steps away from Hestia, maneuvering closer to Wishbone. I’m simply Oblivion, it speaks into all their minds. It stretches out its neck nostrils wide to take in as much scent from the filly as it can. May I? It gestures in asking to touch her, I cannot see to know what you look like. And I’d like to get to know you very much. After addressing her initial question the rest is spoken only in Wishbones mind.
Then it continues to speak this time only to Scorch. Would you like me to tell you? There would be no mistaking what question it is speaking of. She’d not get a straight answer from Hestia, any who know her, would know that even when the queen tries to give a straight answer she’s still evasive as all hell. Speaking to her is like looking at a puzzle with only half the pieces. And Scorch gives the impression to Oblivion as someone who wants all the answers. It could easily give her them, but would she accept what the demon tells her? That’s the fun part for it honestly. Giving her that tease and knowing that it will eat her alive knowing that all the answers are right there just waiting for her to take them.
HESTIA
The devil whispered in my ear, you’ll never survive the storm
I whispered back, I am the storm
@[Wishbone] @[Scorch]
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