There’s a knowing now.
Sochi has never been a scholar of any kind, but she’s sharp enough to piece together the puzzle that is before her. The pieces of scent on Castile, on Oceane—the mare’s anxious approach, the swell of her belly. The way Castile had consistently danced around a subject as though ignoring it would make it go away. In that instance, the fury bleeds from her and turns into a solid stone of understanding.
Of, in her own way, accepting.
Perhaps she was never meant to be owned anyway.
“Stop,” she cuts the mare off, shaking her head, silver eyes impassive. “I don’t care to hear the details.” She felt foolish enough for having cared—foolish enough for letting herself get led down this path. She had no desire for this kind of life and yet she had found herself trapped in it. Had been content to be tamed by the dragon because there was so much of him that reflected so much of her.
In the end, he was a predator—and she is not surprised that he acted in such a way.
But that doesn’t mean she takes pleasure in hearing the details of it relayed back to her.
She feels strangely empty as the other woman stumbles to find the words, her face apathetic and her lips pressed together—and when Oceane begins to twitch, quivering and nipping at her stomach, Sochi takes a step back. She has been a mother twice over and she knows the signs. Knows what is to come.
She doesn’t startle when Oceane hits the knees and glances up at her in terror.
Sochi tilts her head slightly, cold in her passive observance before she takes another step back. “Well, I suppose I should take my leave.” She doesn’t say the mare’s name—doesn’t extend any kind of friendship toward the blue mare but neither does she force any hostility. Instead she turns to leave.
“Good luck with,” she pauses, sweeping a silver gaze over the woman, “all of this.”
And then she shifts and pads quietly back into the shadows.
she said a war ain't a war before both sides bleed
@[Oceane]