Pond
The scent of the colt’s demise poisons the air around them, stinging her nostrils and throat as she sniffles and sobs. She can’t bear to look at the tattered corpse so she hides her face in the stallion’s chest as she tries to refute the evidence right before them. Vulgaris steps nearer so that her shoulder eases into the groove of his taller form and he bends his head to hug her close. For a brief moment she is comforted, squinting the tears from her eyes so that no more could follow, but then he speaks again:
Of course you meant to, Pond.
Her gray eyes open in a flash and the sudden burst of color and light nearly blind her. His mouth is near enough to her that she hears him clearly - it is perhaps the first time she has heard a voice so clearly since she was a newborn, since before the adventure that had delivered her these shadowy wings and the fogginess in her ears.
These words she hears clearly as a bell.
Vulgaris continues to spill words into her ear, words she takes as terrible truths. Words like ‘jealous’ and ‘monsters’ and ‘take’ - her black-tipped ears twitch vaguely at each subtle accusation and her eyes fall closed slowly. She buries her face in Vulgaris’ chest again with another small sob; the wings darken just a slight bit more. She has hardly made the connection just yet that Vulgaris is the culprit in the colt’s death; instead, she is haunted by the shadow-colt she had encountered, the fact that she had been spared during the chaos that has reshaped Beqanna where her family has all disappeared. She believes it to be some curse that she carries.
If they come looking for you then I will keep you safe.
Pond jerks her head back to look up at the dappled stallion tearfully, frightened. “Who would look for me?” she begs, but once her thoughts begin to race she murmurs at least one answer to her question: “his parents…”
The final words Vulgaris speaks make the most sense so far. She does not want to admit it but, if the death of this colt was somehow her fault, it seemed best to have some kind of a bodyguard or at least a champion for her cause.
In some way it seemed almost romantic.
“Where...where do you live?” she asks hesitantly, still with her head against his chest, but she has now shifted her body so that she can no longer see the colt’s remains. “Could I hide with you? I was brought to Ischia… I used to live…” She sighs gently and blinks a few more tears from her eyes. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. I just need somewhere…to go. Until his parents stop looking for me…”
Of course you meant to, Pond.
Her gray eyes open in a flash and the sudden burst of color and light nearly blind her. His mouth is near enough to her that she hears him clearly - it is perhaps the first time she has heard a voice so clearly since she was a newborn, since before the adventure that had delivered her these shadowy wings and the fogginess in her ears.
These words she hears clearly as a bell.
Vulgaris continues to spill words into her ear, words she takes as terrible truths. Words like ‘jealous’ and ‘monsters’ and ‘take’ - her black-tipped ears twitch vaguely at each subtle accusation and her eyes fall closed slowly. She buries her face in Vulgaris’ chest again with another small sob; the wings darken just a slight bit more. She has hardly made the connection just yet that Vulgaris is the culprit in the colt’s death; instead, she is haunted by the shadow-colt she had encountered, the fact that she had been spared during the chaos that has reshaped Beqanna where her family has all disappeared. She believes it to be some curse that she carries.
If they come looking for you then I will keep you safe.
Pond jerks her head back to look up at the dappled stallion tearfully, frightened. “Who would look for me?” she begs, but once her thoughts begin to race she murmurs at least one answer to her question: “his parents…”
The final words Vulgaris speaks make the most sense so far. She does not want to admit it but, if the death of this colt was somehow her fault, it seemed best to have some kind of a bodyguard or at least a champion for her cause.
In some way it seemed almost romantic.
“Where...where do you live?” she asks hesitantly, still with her head against his chest, but she has now shifted her body so that she can no longer see the colt’s remains. “Could I hide with you? I was brought to Ischia… I used to live…” She sighs gently and blinks a few more tears from her eyes. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. I just need somewhere…to go. Until his parents stop looking for me…”
@[Jassal] I smell some Stockholm Syndrome coming on >:}