cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
The green colt seems a little nervous at first. He doesn’t seem quite sure how to respond to their sudden appearance. Which is probably good since Brazen gets briefly distracted as she realizes Lio hadn’t responded to her yet. ‘Lio?’ She pokes a little, wondering why he was so quiet. He’s never quiet. After a moment, she can hear the faint whispers of his thoughts. Dreams. Oh. He’s sleeping. Well. She huffs a little at that, but the newly discovered colt stammering out an introduction pulls her from her disgruntled thoughts.
She straightens when he says he is from Sylva, her curiosity getting the better of her. She’d only ever been on the island and here. And Ischia, she supposes, but that hardly counts since they hadn’t gotten to spend any time there. “Sylva?” she asks, echoing her brother. Even Dagen seems a little interested by the thought of Sylva, which says something. She continues then, asking the things her brother hadn’t. “Is it close? Could we see it?”
She steps a little closer to Corban in her eagerness, blue eyes bright with a surprising intensity as she stares at him. Perhaps her enthusiasm could be a little intimidating, though she hasn’t quite realized that yet. Even so, she probably wouldn’t temper it even if she did know. She is a product of her parents, after all.
“Would your sister come with us?” she asks almost as an afterthought. She glances around briefly, but sees no one else. But who knows, maybe his sister is like Lio. Or maybe she is old. She probably wouldn’t want to come if she is old. Old people are no fun anway.
Brazen
