09-17-2019, 10:48 AM
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<center><div class="Wennycontain"><img class="Wennyimg" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/37/69/ea3769a9996075ca9173f6b7facc065a.jpg"><div class="Wennyname">Eurwen</div>
<div class="Wennyquote">the secret of walking on water<br>is knowing where the rocks lie</div><div class="Wennygrad"></div><div class="Wennytext">If Eurwen had still been little Wenny, but grown older, she would not have spoken so bluntly. In fact perhaps she would not have spoken at all; timid and withdrawn, she usually did not need her voice in the sheltered life she’s had as a child. Only her twin sister paid attention, and often enough Oisín had a mouth for two. Chryseis as well. So naturally, Eurwen felt no need to talk.
No need to insult, either. This was not her intention today, not ever. Had she returned home after her Plague quest and not heeded the last call, she would have been damaged as well, but not like this. Not so wholly broken. She would have recognized the look on Oriash’ face, the shift in stance as she mentioned Kagerus, or perhaps she would not have mentioned her at all. Maybe just named her in passing, you look like your mother, accommodated with a lovely smile to show she means nothing by it.
Today’s circumstances are very different. When Eurwen looks at the other mare she sees the motherly figure she met twice over, Curing the Plague at the time, and she’d blurted that out as soon as it came to her mind. She also sees the hurt by the mentioned name, the shadows that Eurwen recognizes as similar-looking to her gramamma’s twilight powers - dangerous things.
Inside, little Wenny cringes. The pink-dotted mare looks at the winged girl before her, and doesn’t seem to understand. She frowns at the flat tone, the dark tendrils that escape, the way a small child with a fever dream might at something that looks to threaten them but that they aren’t sure are even there. Confused and upset. ”What?” Her tone is challenging, demanding an explanation for the odd reaction. Even in her semi-conscious state, she recognizes that this mare seems angry at her for mentioning Kagerus, and she demands to know why.
”I’m Eurwen. Your mother and I both helped cure the world of the Plague.” Almost swaying on her legs, the pink-spotted mare stands there, finding herself defending this mare’s mother for reasons she doesn’t understand. She says it in a tone indicating Oriash could be more thankful to have such a strong and caring mother, who rooted out the evil of the world. A mare who helped keep little 6-month-old Eurwen, her cousins, and all other foals of that season who’d thought to meet a fairy was the most exciting thing to ever happen in their life, sane and safe at the time.
Perhaps Oriash didn’t know, only knew that she was away. Not-feverish Eurwen could have understood that. Sickly Eurwen didn’t.</div></div></center>
@[Oriash]
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<center><div class="Wennycontain"><img class="Wennyimg" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/37/69/ea3769a9996075ca9173f6b7facc065a.jpg"><div class="Wennyname">Eurwen</div>
<div class="Wennyquote">the secret of walking on water<br>is knowing where the rocks lie</div><div class="Wennygrad"></div><div class="Wennytext">If Eurwen had still been little Wenny, but grown older, she would not have spoken so bluntly. In fact perhaps she would not have spoken at all; timid and withdrawn, she usually did not need her voice in the sheltered life she’s had as a child. Only her twin sister paid attention, and often enough Oisín had a mouth for two. Chryseis as well. So naturally, Eurwen felt no need to talk.
No need to insult, either. This was not her intention today, not ever. Had she returned home after her Plague quest and not heeded the last call, she would have been damaged as well, but not like this. Not so wholly broken. She would have recognized the look on Oriash’ face, the shift in stance as she mentioned Kagerus, or perhaps she would not have mentioned her at all. Maybe just named her in passing, you look like your mother, accommodated with a lovely smile to show she means nothing by it.
Today’s circumstances are very different. When Eurwen looks at the other mare she sees the motherly figure she met twice over, Curing the Plague at the time, and she’d blurted that out as soon as it came to her mind. She also sees the hurt by the mentioned name, the shadows that Eurwen recognizes as similar-looking to her gramamma’s twilight powers - dangerous things.
Inside, little Wenny cringes. The pink-dotted mare looks at the winged girl before her, and doesn’t seem to understand. She frowns at the flat tone, the dark tendrils that escape, the way a small child with a fever dream might at something that looks to threaten them but that they aren’t sure are even there. Confused and upset. ”What?” Her tone is challenging, demanding an explanation for the odd reaction. Even in her semi-conscious state, she recognizes that this mare seems angry at her for mentioning Kagerus, and she demands to know why.
”I’m Eurwen. Your mother and I both helped cure the world of the Plague.” Almost swaying on her legs, the pink-spotted mare stands there, finding herself defending this mare’s mother for reasons she doesn’t understand. She says it in a tone indicating Oriash could be more thankful to have such a strong and caring mother, who rooted out the evil of the world. A mare who helped keep little 6-month-old Eurwen, her cousins, and all other foals of that season who’d thought to meet a fairy was the most exciting thing to ever happen in their life, sane and safe at the time.
Perhaps Oriash didn’t know, only knew that she was away. Not-feverish Eurwen could have understood that. Sickly Eurwen didn’t.</div></div></center>
@[Oriash]