the firestarters always get the burns
and the good guys never get the girl
She hasn’t been all too watchful for visitors for a time, but she doesn’t give up on that task either. Everyday life seems to have been relatively restored, though she still needs to catch up with what most of the younglings are doing. It appears Rhaegor has been recruiting Kensa, and who knows else, but had figured telling only his mothers would be quite enough. Or not even telling his mothers. Perhaps he just forgot the part of telling others about a new arrival entirely. Like a herd stallion who couldn’t be bothered by the mundane ranking order of the mares - well no, not entirely, but he did seem to think with his hormones rather than his brains, as of late. Well, she wasn’t his mother, and sooner or later he would find out about the consequences of leading several girls on at once.
Spotting a familiar grey figure and a bay filly who is clearly a foal from last spring, she smiles to herself and forgets all about the mute boy or his overall fiery and constantly expanding, family. Sometimes, Ilma wonders how Solace puts up with all that. Ilma has had two children of her own, and doesn’t think she will have any others (not with the rate with which Svedka seems to be coming and going anyway, always just enough on her mind not to seek for an adventure of her own, but far enough away not to actually take their friendship over that edge), not that she really minds the lack of pregnancy or a weanling at her feet. Life is busy as is; today she has visitors, after all.
To this day, nothing more has come off the strained relationship she has with Lepis. And with Vulgaris here she doesn’t think it will affect the relationship with Loess any more; she doesn’t regret stealing the woman in return, but perhaps she shouldn’t have been the one trying to talk to her. Ah well. It’s over and done with.
Approaching the scaled grey and his equally-scaled daughter, she smiles brightly at them. ”Vulgaris, welcome. Please, don’t just stand there. The view is much better in other places.” she starts with, and smiles encouragingly to the filly. ”You must be Adna. Your father is very proud of you already, you see, so he already told me your name, but he didn’t tell me you were this pretty.” There’s a genuine warmth in her voice, the girl is really looking cute. Her bay appearance gives her scale a much warmer gleam than the ones on her dad, makes her look kinder. Especially in combination with her bright eyes, or perhaps, there’s just more of her mother in the girl.
Vulgaris, however, was quite wrong to say that Ilma has no babies of her own of Adna’s age. The mare has a daughter who looks the part at least; but she’s not sure if her would-be three-year-old enjoys playing with the really young ones any longer, and isn’t one to keep track on her either. After all, though she is not grown up, she is an adult.
She muses. Perhaps one of the yearlings would like to play with Adna, though. If the girl gets bored with being around her father and herself, anyway.
@[vulgaris]@[adna]