It can be a difficult thing to put history into perspective, especially when one has lived it. For one who has not lived it, it might seem almost a story only. Not quite alive and real as once it had been. Heartfire though, has a distinctively unique perspective when it comes to how one might view such things. Even the history she has lived and survived is far broader in scope than might be true of the average horse.
For these women, the loss of the jungle had been paramount, though in truth it had only been a fraction of the full tapestry. Only a portion of the awesome display of power and change and destruction that had rippled across the land. One small piece in a much larger puzzle.
Contrary to popular belief however, Heartfire could understand such loss. The youth of her body is deceptive, hiding a soul far too ancient for its vessel. Though that is a story for another time, she can fully sympathize with how the former queen feels upon hearing of the fall of her kingdom. Blue eyes darken as she watches the sudden blow ripple through the other woman’s larger frame. Not a physical one, but a mental one perhaps far more powerful than any physical strike could ever be. She hesitates for a moment before softly murmuring, “I was a queen, once.”
She does not elaborate, but the weight of the words fill her tone, her entire body, with the heaviness of their implication. She had spent decades upon a throne with a man she loved, only to have it taken from her in the blink of an eye. She could well and truly comprehend even if she could not quite find the words to say. Words were not needed here anyway.
The mention of her father seems to brighten Scorch though, and the woman’s wry comment brings a faintly amused smile to her dark lips. No, her father certainly had not inherited his mother’s lust for power. It is a trait that seems to have instead skipped a generation. The woman’s next comment only serves to broaden the smile, and after a moment she simply answers, “Heartfire.”
Her father had named her, his firstborn daughter, after his mother. An irony that is not lost on her.
Her gaze shifts briefly to the jaguar woman as she takes her leave, offering a slight dip of her head in acknowledgement. She would no doubt see the woman again soon enough. They do seem to have a habit of crossing paths quite regularly.
When her blue eyes turn back to Scorch, her request lingering in the air, a faint frown tugs at her lips. Not an expression directed at the hairless woman, but rather one of thoughtful concentration. After a lengthy hesitation, she warns, “This will no doubt be disorienting. Give it a moment. It will pass,” before drawing upon her grandmother’s sight.
With an ease born of practice, she directs Scorch’s sight, giving her an abbreviated, bird’s-eye view of the events that had occurred through the Reckoning. Months blurring by only to land briefly upon those moments in time integral to the rise and fall of the lands, new and old, until, finally they have reached present day. Only then does Heartfire release Scorch’s sight into her own control once more.
Let me know if you want me to change anything <333