cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
The thing about Brazen is that she had grown up learning about unpredictable tempers. On the surface, it doesn’t seem to be a particularly useful thing to know or talent to have. But in the moment when they’d met, when Brazen had stepped back and finally truly looked at Brinly, she had seen her. Not just the stony surface and protective shield of anger. She’d the uncertainty and fear it had covered. The loneliness she tried so desperately to dismiss.
And she knew, without question, the very last thing Brinly would ever want was pity or sympathy. Brazen knows, because that is exactly what she wouldn’t want too. Too many times she’d seen it in other’s faces, when they’d looked at her and realized her truth. When they’d discovered the true agony she suffered through every day.
Even in the beginning, she’d tried to hide it. Now, she had gotten much better at it. Because if there was anything worse than living with it, it was seeing the pity on someone else’s face when they realized it.
And so she’d met her with teasing and humor. She hadn’t tried to ask what she ran from. Never mentioned the way she always shied away when she forgot herself and tried to move closer. Never pressed and never pried. And when the opportunity had arisen, she’d invited her to Nerine. Not because she felt bad, but because she wanted to. Because, for all her friendliness and many acquaintances, Brazen is lonely too.
And she’d desperately wanted a friend.
She hadn’t been entirely certain she would come, but when familiar scent catches the breeze and finds Brazen where she grazes absently, she jerks her head up abruptly, twisting around to peer in the direction from which it had come. It takes her only a moment to recognize the owner of that scent, and without thought she is bursting into a sprint, hooves a steady clip on the hard earth as she barrels towards where Brinly vacillates at the edge of Nerine.
It’s easy enough to see she’s debating whether or not she should just leave before she’s noticed. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how one looks at it), Brazen isn’t going to give her that chance. Skidding to a halt just before she slams into her, a wide grin stretches her lips. Windswept and wild, her eyes leap to hers, a breathless “Hello,” escaping her lips almost before she’s come to a complete stop.
Brazen
