01-17-2018, 12:36 AM
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Not longer than a year ago, she herself had returned from a place Beyond. Indeed, her place was called just that - the Beyond, a mountainous realm of solitude and frozen time. This mare - as small in stature as Trissy, but far more interesting to look at - came from somewhere with a story. Somewhere that, in its beginning, was not here. Was not Beqanna. Still, that thread of connection existed between them - mares, small, resurfacing from a long time spent forgetting the years, blinking away the sleep from another realm.
There's a small white creature adorning her shoulder, one that chirps and seems to communicate with the flaxen mare. It's keen eyes are watching, looking - Trissy feels a queer twist in her stomach as the thing looks at her. Magic, though familiar, has always inspired a kind of nervous awe in the plain mare. Tumbling her thick black locks, she begins approaching, ears perked in a sign of friendliness.
"Hello," comes the husk of her voice, low and opposite to her delicate Arabian figure. She has stopped an appropriate distance away from the dragon-adorned mare, though they can see each other very clearly now. Their eyes nearly align, though Trissy stands somewhat shorter. She does not stretch to try and assert dominance - indeed, in this situation, it was the stranger who held the upper hand. Trissy was nothing, if she deemed her so.
"My name is Trissy - you smell like..." Her face creases, confusion lightly shading her expression. How could she explain the Beyond to someone, knowing full well she would most likely be incorrect? Torture, of course, had been a winning bet - they were siblings - she had smelled him on the wind.
But this mare... It was a gamble.
"I came from elsewhere, too." Her brow furrows, a kind of sad and sheepish expression on her face. She didn't know how else to say it - didn't know if there was anything else to say.
The wind whistles, and Trissy bites her tongue.
There's a small white creature adorning her shoulder, one that chirps and seems to communicate with the flaxen mare. It's keen eyes are watching, looking - Trissy feels a queer twist in her stomach as the thing looks at her. Magic, though familiar, has always inspired a kind of nervous awe in the plain mare. Tumbling her thick black locks, she begins approaching, ears perked in a sign of friendliness.
"Hello," comes the husk of her voice, low and opposite to her delicate Arabian figure. She has stopped an appropriate distance away from the dragon-adorned mare, though they can see each other very clearly now. Their eyes nearly align, though Trissy stands somewhat shorter. She does not stretch to try and assert dominance - indeed, in this situation, it was the stranger who held the upper hand. Trissy was nothing, if she deemed her so.
"My name is Trissy - you smell like..." Her face creases, confusion lightly shading her expression. How could she explain the Beyond to someone, knowing full well she would most likely be incorrect? Torture, of course, had been a winning bet - they were siblings - she had smelled him on the wind.
But this mare... It was a gamble.
"I came from elsewhere, too." Her brow furrows, a kind of sad and sheepish expression on her face. She didn't know how else to say it - didn't know if there was anything else to say.
The wind whistles, and Trissy bites her tongue.
Trissy