Thinking of Malone challenging a genie that steals eyes from babies puts a concerned dip in her brows and the boy can no doubt hear her alarmed thoughts. She looks him over (what she can see) with flashing pink and blue eyes but finds nothing amiss, not outwardly. Though neither of them can know it Malone will not be able to hide his missing heart from her forever. She would feel its absence if she looked... but he is whole, perfect and beautiful and so there is no reason for the healer to feel for what is amiss.
“You fought a genie.” Bluntly, though she purses her lips and looks at him in silence not quite sure she believes it. Maybe he means something else by “challenged”, so she doesn’t argue but still narrows her eyes suspiciously at his bright smile. “It’s good you didn’t have to carry an eye.” A sigh, amused acceptance, a flick of her black tail against the pink of her flanks. “Maybe you could have put it someplace though, instead of in Meraxes’ head.” Thoughtful, if a little morbid.“He could have spied on people. If I got one of Hatchet’s I would put it in a tree.” Probably a Sylvan tree to spy on Jackel for them, that way Starsin wouldn’t catch her creeping around in Sylva and ask her any weird mom questions. Morgayne doesn’t know what weird mom questions would be but she doesn’t want Malone’s mom asking any all the same.
Poor sweet Malone’s head is no bigger than it should be but Morgayne’s perspective is quite altered by her greatly diminished stature. Wiggling obnoxiously beneath the boy’s jaw Morgayne turns her head to nibble at his face just beyond the corner of his mouth. “I’m fine here on the ground with you.” She chirps this stubbornly, even though the words themselves are strung together like something sweet. She may bristle a bit but the tiny filly is very content to be safe here we him. Malone may still a boy he feels strong and safe to his vicious little friend.
“...but” Curving her neck around the side of his face and looking up at the feathered shelter of his wings. “Where would we go if you could fly me someplace?” Where would he choose, she wonders? Why? What kind of places did a winged boy go without his four feet to limit him?
The sunlight is aging from orange to red, and Morgayne will not go home to Pangea until she is big again. Another might be homesick, afraid not to return to their own bed and the keeping of their own guardian's but Morgayne knows no such concerns. Each day sees the black and pink girl writing her own rule book. Right down to how one should ask to stay over. Tipping her face up she gives Malone’s cheek a poke with her fangs. “I’m staying with you. Where do you sleep?”
we could be strangers
@[Malone]
