12-06-2017, 02:12 AM
A twin!
How exciting! There are one or two sets of such in the bloodline but none that she is close to or familiar with. Her brain spins with possibilities of what being a twin must be like, and the bond that the two of them must share. Keeper cannot stop herself from blurting out - “What is she like? Is she like you or different?” Because how could she not ask those questions after learning such a tidbit about Salt as that? Twins! It tickles her heart to think of it, given that Salt’s face gives nothing away. Keeper guesses that that might have something to do with so much time spent in the afterlife as a ghost and less time as a corporeal horse on this side of the spirit realm.
Salt divulges about her mother and then her father. Shares how the father is like her, part ghost but mentions that the mother is not dead. Curious, Keeper cannot take her eyes off of Salt. “What is your mother than if neither dead nor a ghost?” That sounds like more magic is involved and none of which Keeper is familiar with. Or perhaps Salt’s mother is a god of some sort. That would be appropriate, somehow but somehow not since the girl-ghost in front of her seems more down to earth or more of the earth than of some momentous celestial joining that pulled her up and out of the spirit realm to inhabit both worlds of living and dead.
There is the mention of others, but it was said in the same way that Keeper had said it. To the point that neither of them knew about those that had come before, either because the telling was too sad to tell or the knowing was just not worth knowing. So she keeps her interest on Salt who goes on to say that she grew up in the afterlife but that her mother insisted she come here and know what it was like to be alive. (Keeper thinks that Salt was perhaps as much alive as a ghost in her element as she is now in this meadow and in much more solid flesh.)
“Do you think it was wasted?” There is somewhat of a conspiratorial tone to Keeper’s voice, as if she thinks that mothers and grandmothers don’t always know what’s best for children. Granted, Keeper couldn’t quite argue with the logic of some not-quite-dead mare that said her ghost of a daughter needed to have a taste of what life was like but Keeper also thought that Salt could learn a lot from the dead. “I think you’d learn just as much there as you could here.”
How exciting! There are one or two sets of such in the bloodline but none that she is close to or familiar with. Her brain spins with possibilities of what being a twin must be like, and the bond that the two of them must share. Keeper cannot stop herself from blurting out - “What is she like? Is she like you or different?” Because how could she not ask those questions after learning such a tidbit about Salt as that? Twins! It tickles her heart to think of it, given that Salt’s face gives nothing away. Keeper guesses that that might have something to do with so much time spent in the afterlife as a ghost and less time as a corporeal horse on this side of the spirit realm.
Salt divulges about her mother and then her father. Shares how the father is like her, part ghost but mentions that the mother is not dead. Curious, Keeper cannot take her eyes off of Salt. “What is your mother than if neither dead nor a ghost?” That sounds like more magic is involved and none of which Keeper is familiar with. Or perhaps Salt’s mother is a god of some sort. That would be appropriate, somehow but somehow not since the girl-ghost in front of her seems more down to earth or more of the earth than of some momentous celestial joining that pulled her up and out of the spirit realm to inhabit both worlds of living and dead.
There is the mention of others, but it was said in the same way that Keeper had said it. To the point that neither of them knew about those that had come before, either because the telling was too sad to tell or the knowing was just not worth knowing. So she keeps her interest on Salt who goes on to say that she grew up in the afterlife but that her mother insisted she come here and know what it was like to be alive. (Keeper thinks that Salt was perhaps as much alive as a ghost in her element as she is now in this meadow and in much more solid flesh.)
“Do you think it was wasted?” There is somewhat of a conspiratorial tone to Keeper’s voice, as if she thinks that mothers and grandmothers don’t always know what’s best for children. Granted, Keeper couldn’t quite argue with the logic of some not-quite-dead mare that said her ghost of a daughter needed to have a taste of what life was like but Keeper also thought that Salt could learn a lot from the dead. “I think you’d learn just as much there as you could here.”