12-09-2017, 07:23 PM
Reagan
I want you to know that I'm all yours; you and me, we're the same force.
The black mare looked at her copper colored beacon, and did not starte when he approached her—nor when he rebuked her. She had known he would do so. Her only care was that she was not discovered in herself, and so, she wills that she will not be. Reagan's eyes roil with all the tumultuousness of a galactic storm, and she smiles at him kindly, in a removed, ethereal way. Rhonen. She had known his name, too.
She could have discovered his past, if she wished. But he was not interesting enough for her to crawl though his mind, pressing her fingers into images of his memory. Here in the world of shadow and black, she wonders what has brought such a penny here. For her, it was bad memories, and to check on the world that she had once held dear.
What could his reason possibly be? No one ever came to this part of the forest unless they had something nefarious on their mind. Or unless they were running from something.
Rhonen looked like the boy next door. Which meant he was running from something.
Her voice carries an unnatural echo to it when she looks at him, her smile disingenuine, her eyes shallow. What would she give to go home where she was safe. "I am Reagan" She whispers, as an enchantment that he would forget when they left here and parted ways. "It is easy to be startled in this part of the world."
Her eyes are hooded, and she is cloaked. "Why do you look like you're running from something?" There. Said it. She's too old for aritifice any longer.