She has grown accustomed to the loneliness that has colored her entire life. She has bore witness to kingdoms rising, and falling, and rising again. She has watched as new life has been birthed, grown old, and passed into the next life. She has seen happiness wrenched from the wombs of those who cultivated it, replaced by hatred and anger. She has watched the world, and all it’s inhabitants morph, and change, and grow, and fade…..yet she is ever the same…unchanging. She is the only thing in her entire life that has not evolved. At times it is maddening, at others it is the sole comfort she has in this world. She has been alive, and yet she has never really lived.
 
She has always been an oddity amongst oddities, though in a much more simple way than per the usual. She is average in every way, though delicate in her build from blood heavy with desert influence. A simple bay pinto horse, with a gentle dish to her head, and a mane and tale that glitters in the sunlight. Aside from her unusual adornments, she is immortal, a gift from a father more steeped in legend than a physical reality. She knows nothing of him, though, and his significance to her existence has dwindled as she’s grown older.
 
She once again finds herself in the Field, though many things in this land have changed, the Field remains as Katastrophe does, ever unchanged. If she were to quickly glance it would be as a picture from her youth, the same faces and cliques gathered round in heavy discussion. Recruiting, and claiming, and squabbling. But as it is, most of those faces are long since dead, and the faces here today are entirely new to her keen eyes. She cocks a hind leg, and allows her eyes to close and her mind to wander to fitful sleep. This is a game she is all too familiar with, and she knows she will not have to wait too terribly long for a body to approach her, and really, what is time when you’ve got eternity at your fingertips? It is insignificant, at least to Kat. It seems to her, she could sleep a thousand years, and not a thing would be different when she woke.
 
Her mind drifts, wandering back to days gone by, to children she’d raised, and men she’d only ever lusted for. It brings her back to a bubbling stream, and laughter as she fled a winged man’s possessive embrace. To squeals, and nips, and a heavily rounded middle housing perhaps her most exceptional of accomplishments. She wonders where her son is now, before her dreams take her to darker places.
 
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Somewhere in the deep pits of her subconscious, she is aware that she is being observed, though this knowledge does not rattle her. She’s broken bread so to speak with some of the most wicked, vile, lecherous, and dangerous to ever tread these lands, and to her girlish disappointment she’d come away from these encounters utterly unscathed. Many times her flesh could’ve been sustenance for some of the more base folk that had called Beqanna home, and yet here she is, perfectly and completely whole. She is now of a mind that if it is her time to go, it is her time to go. Worrying about who watches from a distance only causes you to suffer twice, and so her brain does not wake her from her dreams. She sleeps quietly, cocking one bleached hind leg in utter relaxation, until she hears a rustling of the green blades that stretch over the field like emerald carpet, heralding the approach of another. An ink tipped ear cocks in his direction, even though crystalline eyes are sluggish to open.

She stifles a smirk at his snort, and finally opens knowing eyes when he exclaims that he’d not been sure if he’d find anybody here today. If she were younger perhaps she would’ve believed him, as it is she regards him quietly, with polite interest. She offers a half smile, and a shrug ”Just me for the time being, I’m afraid.” she offers, turning sky stained eyes towards the vastness that stretched out around them. ”It is rather empty today.” she observes. Where earlier had been cliques of horses talking or grazing, now there seemed to be only the sleepy sun and singing crickets. He overtakes her, ogling her overtly and pressing on past her in a silent invitation. She watches him for a moment, silently musing her own blossoming interest of him. This was not her first trip around the merry-go-round. She steps with him, deciding that she’s quite interested in seeing in where this could go, and how long before he discovers just how calculated she is in her dealings with others. Commitment wasn’t her thing, and if it was a short term jaunt he was after, there was no regretful morning after or awkward goodbyes to be had with her. Zero expectations of any sort of follow up.

”As a matter of fact, I don’t.” she offers with a tinge of irony. She wonders if he has hopes for the long term, but something in the way he looks at her tells her that this is unlikely. The thought makes her smile. ”Do you? Or are you just passing through as well? I find I never stay in one place for too long.” there is a hint of warning in her final words, a ghost of a touch as she comes to be shoulder to flank by his side, before she takes a smooth half step away again, quietly meandering onward, content to allow him to guide her should he so please. Kat was rather sneaky that way, she had mastered the art of mimicking the ‘compliant female’ though it never took long for the façade to fall away once the urge to socialize, or otherwise, had been sated.

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