The three women bunch on the windy horizon, following the call like hounds to a scent but stopping just short of joining in. The first is the bony white mare, her pale coat covered in rusted freckles to match her rust colored withers. Her big sulfur and ink eyes wide and unblinking while she peers down at the questioning Queen and her summoned group. All the women, mother and daughters alike, have noticed the newcomers but never bothered to ask. The bay girl, wings of obsidian scales that glisten in the dim autumnal light, she steps forward next to her mother. She is two years this coming spring and small still for her age and heritage. Oleandar is a woman of tall, lithe form, careful and clenched in every movement she makes unless she’s hovering over a favorite flower. The golden girl is nervous in such a setting as this, a gathering of sorts. They are not her preferred scenario and so the moth-girl stays behind both her younger sister and their mother, just watching, listening.
City, who normally is quite useless in these affairs, is struck with an impulse. Her tail flicks and she says nothing to her two grown children as she descends the crest of the hill. She passes another on her way down, they do not make eye contact but he doesn’t smell of Nerine. A messenger, she predicts. At a sweeping, lazy trot she makes her way to Nayl’s side, ignoring the rest as she usually does to everyone. “An army is more important than fighting each other.” She snorts and bends an ear onto the Queen beside her, the freckled mare’s voice is like cold stone but it melts so nicely into the chilly changing air of fall. “We should build one, train them. We can then worry about resources, espionage, and our civilians.” She says it without grace or traces softness to her tone. She stares ahead at first but with the conclusion her suggestion her abysmal eyes slide to meet Nayl’s. At this closeness it is easy to see the stained fur where her bloody tears flow from time to time. Her heart is steady now and only the evidence remains in small rivulets of dried rust-color trailing in several directions down her cheeks.
Her mother was a General in the Chamber’s army for several years and City had loved to watch her train, defend and patrol their home. She was very young, but never left her side for so many years and indeed saw very much. Call it nostalgia or even just a battle-born old lady barking her bullshit opinion, but she leaves it at that. She doesn’t leave Nayl’s shoulder but falls silent, almost completely forgetting about her daughter who watch from the hills behind.
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grumpy shows up to something finally. her mutant kids (@[OLEANDAR] & @[wrena]) watch from afar ;P she is suggesting that they build up a legit army with ranks and then build their own dysfunctional utopia lol
