cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
There is a recklessness to the way she runs today. A wild inattentiveness that speaks of the sudden knowledge she’d developed surrounding the lack of true purpose in her life. Something that borders on a dangerous fearlessness and a need for adrenaline risk supplies. Were it not for the ping against her consciousness that drives her from careless thoughts, it’s difficult to say just how close to the edge she might have danced.
She slows her pace, rock crumbling down the edges of the cliff as she moves with a lack of deliberation from those perilous peaks. The manic light seems to fade, leaving behind only an uncertain curiosity as she glances around. She follows the subtle tug, caution lacking despite the unknown source.
Nerine has been her home too long for any sense of caution or trepidation to bother her. Foolish perhaps, but there is bravery in familiarity.
Of course, in this particular instance, there likely is no reason for fear anyway. Though her recognition of the gilted roan is tempered by time and youth, she does recall him from meetings passed. The winged stallion is a stranger to her, but one who carries with him a sense of familiarity. And Neverwhere, of course, though she has only a passing awareness of her. Regardless, there seems to be no sense of urgency surrounding the group.
She had missed whatever introductions had been made, but as she nears, she catches Neverwhere’s offhand comment about Eurwen and smelly fish. She sniffs the air curiously, though if there is indeed any sort of fishy odor, it is apparently lost on her. Of course, she likely isn’t smelling too fresh herself, given the blood and sweat drying on her mottled skin and protruding bone.
“Is Eurwen here?” she asks abruptly, curiosity catching on her name as she glances around, seeking her spotted, and decidedly absent, form. When the fact of absence becomes apparent, a soft “Hmm” escapes her lips. With a small frown, she turns her attention back to the small group, gaze landing curiously on Brennen. Had she heard his name, she would have recognized it. But alas, she may have her mother’s eyes, but unfortunately she is decidedly lacking in any of her abilities.
“I’m Brazen. Have we met? You feel familiar.”
Brazen