FAMILIAR BREATH OF MY OLD LIES
CHANGED THE COLOR IN MY EYES
Wichita can hardly contain herself, listening carefully as everyone speaks. The person she is most interest in hearing is her friend, their Queen, Fiasko. She can not for one second, fathom how anyone could be well when held captive. Even a someone willing.
It's nothing short of admirable though, she must admit. She heard Fiasko had bravely surrendered. That she had willingly given herself up for the good of the kingdom. There was nothing to be said against that, but stay? Why did they want her to stay? To show them who was boss? To torture her, rape her, make her do horrible things?
The little silver black trembles, whether it is from fear, or anger is uncertain. All the same, it is a hint of the coming outburst. They had set the country girl on fire, thoughts of her past flooding her mind. She had done so well to repress those memories too.
It's not very ladylike, but it is right on cue for the little, southern belle. "Stay there?! No. NO. Ya can't stay there. What'll they do ta ya?" Her chocolate brown eyes grow wide as she speaks. Soon they are pooling with tears, seconds away from mussing up her pretty face. "No" The words are choked and broken as she fights her emotions. "Mast, tell her not ta go. She don't have ta righ' ? Right?" Pleading for someone to make the words untrue, turning first to the King.
Before he can even give her an answer, she shakily reaches for her friend, overcome with deep sadness. She wants nothing more than to reach out, lay her head and neck across the painted mare. The black shadow-bird looks on with a menacing stare, keeping her from making contact where she intends. She settles instead for a cheek-to-cheek embrace, hoping that it would not be the last. "Fi-Fiasko, this is Rucker." she sniffles into the other's ear. "Ain't he purdy?"