10-28-2016, 07:26 AM
It is Lagertha that she sees first, iron grey against the bright autumn sky. Djinni knows that the Field is not a place for their kind to travel in pairs but she comes anyway, because her flippancy with tradition is unshakeable, and she wonders why she cannot see whoever it is that her Sister is speaking with.
Closer, she can tell they are small, and when she's beside Lagertha, pressing a muzzle to her shoulder in a friendly greeting, she can see it is a child. Djiini has never been especially fond of children - their is no room in her personality for maternal warmth - but she is already here and there is no need to leave too quickly.
"I'm Djinni", replies the grullo mare to the question asked of Lagertha. "She's Lagertha." The General can speak for herself, but Djinni makes an effort to be polite, fairly certain that the grey mare will understand. The questions about her companion's scars she does not answer, instead turning the questions back to the filly.
"Where'd you get your colors from?" Djinni, who has been each shade of the rainbow, finds the blur of greys and browns intriguing, pied together as they are in a pattern she'd never thought to replicate. She does so now of course, and the soft grey and black of her coat ripples until she is a mirror image of Claymore (albeit taller and in infinitely better shape).
Closer, she can tell they are small, and when she's beside Lagertha, pressing a muzzle to her shoulder in a friendly greeting, she can see it is a child. Djiini has never been especially fond of children - their is no room in her personality for maternal warmth - but she is already here and there is no need to leave too quickly.
"I'm Djinni", replies the grullo mare to the question asked of Lagertha. "She's Lagertha." The General can speak for herself, but Djinni makes an effort to be polite, fairly certain that the grey mare will understand. The questions about her companion's scars she does not answer, instead turning the questions back to the filly.
"Where'd you get your colors from?" Djinni, who has been each shade of the rainbow, finds the blur of greys and browns intriguing, pied together as they are in a pattern she'd never thought to replicate. She does so now of course, and the soft grey and black of her coat ripples until she is a mirror image of Claymore (albeit taller and in infinitely better shape).
D J I N N I
genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster