If only Vastra knew how little fight Brunhilde had to give her. It has been proven time and again that she will argue with a stranger, serve some undeserved (if delusional) attitude to them, but to one of her most treasured creatures - Vastra could call her an obtuse asshole for being gone for so long and Brun would still smile and murmur, "That's the Vastra I know." She opened up immediately, a well-worn, loved book that her once-lover has read countless times.
A musical, easy laugh rolls out of Brun's lips: "I'm sure she did, our Chel. It would be you that glitters when you're happy." She practically purrs as she says this, lipping lazily at Vastra's neck. "I think it quite suits you. Maybe we can compete to see who shines more at night," she adds with a murmur, the smile on her face never fading.
The little mare pulls back as her companion does, eyes so mercifully free of the visions. The smile, the shining, glistening smile: it stays, so proud and strong. So happy to find a part of her life that felt so wonderfully exciting and normal. This little reunion has a flare of what all the other creatures do: love and be loved with no loss of time, no wild inhibitions.
"Oh," Brun says, eyes widening with a softness she hasn't felt in years. She peers at Vastra in sincere dismay, wondering how she could ever apologize. "Vastra," she whispers, then presses her cheek firmly to the other woman's. "You have nothing to apologize for. I . . . I've been gone. You wouldn't have been able to find me anyway, and - and -" Brun pauses, pulls away and looks in any other direction. "I couldn't come looking for you, so," she stops again, gulps. Brun drags the smile back to her face and looks back up, toward hope (hope that shines in her eyes even through her sadness, her confusion).
"But I am so thrilled to see you, now. Where have you been? What have you been doing?" The two questions come out rushed, excited, and she almost adds, Can I come with you? The thought of escaping her father and brother sounds nice; but she hesitates. She is terribly unsure of the life Vastra has built outside of her.
A musical, easy laugh rolls out of Brun's lips: "I'm sure she did, our Chel. It would be you that glitters when you're happy." She practically purrs as she says this, lipping lazily at Vastra's neck. "I think it quite suits you. Maybe we can compete to see who shines more at night," she adds with a murmur, the smile on her face never fading.
The little mare pulls back as her companion does, eyes so mercifully free of the visions. The smile, the shining, glistening smile: it stays, so proud and strong. So happy to find a part of her life that felt so wonderfully exciting and normal. This little reunion has a flare of what all the other creatures do: love and be loved with no loss of time, no wild inhibitions.
"Oh," Brun says, eyes widening with a softness she hasn't felt in years. She peers at Vastra in sincere dismay, wondering how she could ever apologize. "Vastra," she whispers, then presses her cheek firmly to the other woman's. "You have nothing to apologize for. I . . . I've been gone. You wouldn't have been able to find me anyway, and - and -" Brun pauses, pulls away and looks in any other direction. "I couldn't come looking for you, so," she stops again, gulps. Brun drags the smile back to her face and looks back up, toward hope (hope that shines in her eyes even through her sadness, her confusion).
"But I am so thrilled to see you, now. Where have you been? What have you been doing?" The two questions come out rushed, excited, and she almost adds, Can I come with you? The thought of escaping her father and brother sounds nice; but she hesitates. She is terribly unsure of the life Vastra has built outside of her.
@Vastra i wrote this reply in a bar while drinking a pbr and wondering if people were gonna see the horse art on my computer so...........lmao
