07-05-2016, 03:43 PM
oh, where do we begin? the rubble or our sins?
Quark has the right of it, there is nothing like the embrace of an old friend. It is one thing to be a mother and a grandmother and collect hugs like one would dandelions, it is another to know that someone is there simply because they want to be. Because they love you. To not feel like you have to pick them up when they fall, only meet them at the bottom of the hill and laugh about the tumble down there. The two of them go back; way, way back, to when Yael was bay and innocent, and just learning the language. She still can’t pronounce the ‘kw’ sound, but Kark never seemed to mind her particular mispronunciation. They rest like this for a moment, as if they were long-lost sisters. In a way, her relationship with Quark is the closest that Yael has ever come to having a living sister. It is unique; they are equals, and unlike her relationship with Noct, is not chock-full of disappointment and resentment.
The two women part, and Yael gets a good look at her flower friend; parts of her seem older, wiser, and stronger, while others look like they’ve been torn apart and stitched back together again. Ah, but Yael must look like something of the same to the shaman. Grief does that. She shakes her head and makes a sound in the back of her throat to dismiss the apology. That is not needed between them. “Eet ees good to see you too, dear. Come een, come een.” The smaller mare steps aside and indicates towards the interior with her wings. They might as well be comfortable while they catch up.
Were Yael human, she would be quite the consummate hostess, bustling around and offering food and refreshments, plumping pillows, and making sure her guest is completely comfortable before settling in to talk. “You vill stay avhile, von’t you? I xaf a tree that ees so very comfy to lay beneath and vatch ze stars.” Yes, a tree. A tree that is part of a story that Quark knows all too well. She shrugs. “I am xappy. I xaf my love back again, and I xaf cheeldren and grandcheeldren. I xaf ze sun and ze sand, and peace.” She chuckles dryly. “Perxaps too much peace. I t’ink I might have done some damage ze last time I vas a dragon. There is a long pause, filled by reflective silence in which Yael continues to collect her thoughts. “And yet, I t’ink zat maybe eet might be time to leave B’kanna again for a beet? You know xow eet goes, yes? Ah, but enough of me. Xow are you? Vhat breengs you back to us?”
The two women part, and Yael gets a good look at her flower friend; parts of her seem older, wiser, and stronger, while others look like they’ve been torn apart and stitched back together again. Ah, but Yael must look like something of the same to the shaman. Grief does that. She shakes her head and makes a sound in the back of her throat to dismiss the apology. That is not needed between them. “Eet ees good to see you too, dear. Come een, come een.” The smaller mare steps aside and indicates towards the interior with her wings. They might as well be comfortable while they catch up.
Were Yael human, she would be quite the consummate hostess, bustling around and offering food and refreshments, plumping pillows, and making sure her guest is completely comfortable before settling in to talk. “You vill stay avhile, von’t you? I xaf a tree that ees so very comfy to lay beneath and vatch ze stars.” Yes, a tree. A tree that is part of a story that Quark knows all too well. She shrugs. “I am xappy. I xaf my love back again, and I xaf cheeldren and grandcheeldren. I xaf ze sun and ze sand, and peace.” She chuckles dryly. “Perxaps too much peace. I t’ink I might have done some damage ze last time I vas a dragon. There is a long pause, filled by reflective silence in which Yael continues to collect her thoughts. “And yet, I t’ink zat maybe eet might be time to leave B’kanna again for a beet? You know xow eet goes, yes? Ah, but enough of me. Xow are you? Vhat breengs you back to us?”
YAEL
mother, queen, magician