09-14-2018, 09:46 PM
Alone in her grotto, Djinni has all but forgotten about the bloody tobiano mare from the Field. She has had other things to occupy her mind, most of them there to build a barrier to the one place she does not intend to let it drift. The blue-eyed black stallion remains behind that wall, and by default the piebald Agnieszka remained there as well, tucked away as a memory the genie does not want to remember.
The method serves her well until she crosses literal paths with the other mare, unable to ignore the half-familiar face lit by the evening sun. "Agnieszka" She says, pausing in her journey to look over the not-quite stranger. She looks better, Djinni notices, much improved from their last meeting. Yet there is something less than rested about the tobiano mare, something that is not quite right that she can't put a name to.
"How have you been?" She asks. "Enjoying Nerine, I hope?" There is just enough emotion in her expression to appear genuine, and there is true curiosity in her dark eyes. They are brown today, soft and doe-like, the hue to which Stillwater had referred. Here in Nerine she wears them in her natural shade, warm brown beneath rosey lashes. Elsewhere they are green - or blue or gold or even not there at all - but not here, not home.
Sometime in the last decade this place had become home, sometime between her first steps on the beach alongside Queen Naga and this encounter with the greying black Agnieszka.
@[Agnieszka]
@[Breckin] maybe?
The method serves her well until she crosses literal paths with the other mare, unable to ignore the half-familiar face lit by the evening sun. "Agnieszka" She says, pausing in her journey to look over the not-quite stranger. She looks better, Djinni notices, much improved from their last meeting. Yet there is something less than rested about the tobiano mare, something that is not quite right that she can't put a name to.
"How have you been?" She asks. "Enjoying Nerine, I hope?" There is just enough emotion in her expression to appear genuine, and there is true curiosity in her dark eyes. They are brown today, soft and doe-like, the hue to which Stillwater had referred. Here in Nerine she wears them in her natural shade, warm brown beneath rosey lashes. Elsewhere they are green - or blue or gold or even not there at all - but not here, not home.
Sometime in the last decade this place had become home, sometime between her first steps on the beach alongside Queen Naga and this encounter with the greying black Agnieszka.
@[Agnieszka]
@[Breckin] maybe?