01-13-2019, 07:33 AM
Eurwen
in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows
She's taken her time to return, and every step felt like dread. Not because what she had done wasn't right - she'll stand by it today, tomorrow, and every day after - but because she had not told anyone, because it had been so very dangerous, because she'd made it all the way there and back purely out of luck.
But when she nears the border, a whinny sounds, a girl or a young mare, perhaps a little older than Brazen and Dagen, or Eurwen herself.
The two-year old is greeted by another before the rose-gold girl can meet her, but she joins the little group nonetheless. Perhaps she can do something good for the kingdom instead of the world - sound a whole lot less dangerous. The image of the monster briefly crosses before her eyes at the memory, but she pushes it away. No. She will not give in.
She hasn't spied her mother or father yet, but she figures one of them, or even her Grammama or Sheen or 'Seis, will probably show up soon. And they may or may not lecture her about leaving without notice, but probably they won't do it right now. At least, she can hope.
"Hi," she says (more meekly than she would have wanted, but at least she said something and didn't just shyly stare at them, right?). She shuts down a little after that, looking from the blue and white mare (she smells of Nerine, she asks the right question) to the visitor, not sure what to say or ask for a moment.
She falls back to the very basics. "I'm Eurwen. Where are you from?"
But when she nears the border, a whinny sounds, a girl or a young mare, perhaps a little older than Brazen and Dagen, or Eurwen herself.
The two-year old is greeted by another before the rose-gold girl can meet her, but she joins the little group nonetheless. Perhaps she can do something good for the kingdom instead of the world - sound a whole lot less dangerous. The image of the monster briefly crosses before her eyes at the memory, but she pushes it away. No. She will not give in.
She hasn't spied her mother or father yet, but she figures one of them, or even her Grammama or Sheen or 'Seis, will probably show up soon. And they may or may not lecture her about leaving without notice, but probably they won't do it right now. At least, she can hope.
"Hi," she says (more meekly than she would have wanted, but at least she said something and didn't just shyly stare at them, right?). She shuts down a little after that, looking from the blue and white mare (she smells of Nerine, she asks the right question) to the visitor, not sure what to say or ask for a moment.
She falls back to the very basics. "I'm Eurwen. Where are you from?"
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose
in the spring becomes the rose