In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different
By the time Besra has turned about to see where her pouting little sister has disappeared to, it’s already too late. Amorette is lingering right where she left her, some feet away from the shore, but her back is turned and her attention is wholly focused on something lingering just out of sight in the woods. Besra is motionless, wavering breaths coming in short, rapid bursts while she feels some lingering, unknown fear begin to rise in her breast. The flicker of ghostly skin already sends some mixture of excitement and trepidation through her, but she snaps back to her senses, the thought of Amorette’s safety rising above everything else.
Her careful steps lead her swiftly back around the lake, bright eyes shifting back and forth between the crowd that has gathered. There’s a colt among them - and then, looming over her sister like some nightmare in the broad daylight - is the horned one. Has he grown smaller since the last time she’d seen him? No … Besra has grown larger. The girl will soon be a yearling - no match for him or his horns, but less a weakling to be dealt with. It’s strange that she thinks of him like that, an enemy. But he hadn’t come with kind words or sweet intentions any other time she’d come across him.
She comes alongside her sister, shoulder brushing against the little black one’s. Her eyes, unnervingly bright and calm, stare him down with a lack of emotion. “I think he’s a bit too old for your games, sister.” She croons, head turning to the side so that her nose can protectively sweep across her cheek. She would give her life, happily, for her sister’s safety. There was no one else in the world whom she had to love. Her gaze snaps to the young colt, and she nods a simple greeting before focusing once more on Leck.
“Of course, we could always play hide and seek.” She mentions with a sideways grin, her mind thinking of ways to escape from him. “We could hide, and brother could stay here and count.” She offers, laughing softly to try and ease the tension. The word brother is like metal on her tongue, heavy and tangy - like blood. She doesn’t like it, and she wonders if he’ll find enjoyment in throwing the fact that they aren’t related back at her. She could only agree. Thank god his blood did not flow in her veins.