again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine
i'm left behind wondering if i should follow
If the copper mare had thrown herself to her knees in the mud, sobbed a heartfelt apology and a thousand pleas, Lepis might have been swayed.
Might have.
As it is, the sound of her name from the other mare elicits little more than a flicking of the dun’s ears and a raise of her brow. With her own indecision hidden behind her swift verbal reaction, Lepis feels free to pass judgement on Lilliana, who for a moment seems unable to find words. A good diplomat would have an immediate comeback, Lepis tells herself, this is just another failing. That she herself has cautioned others to remain silent if they are uncertain what to say is something she conveniently forgets – hypocrisy and ruthlessness make good fellows.
The rain has soaked her mane through, and Lepis tosses back her forelock to keep the water from streaming across her face. The unfettered view gives her a better look at Lilliana, and gives the chestnut mare an unobstructed view of the genuine incredulity that appears on the Cleric’s face at the younger mare’s question. What is she doing in Nerine? It doesn’t matter who Lilliana is asking as: an ambassador, a Northerner, or a backstabbing former friend. Whoever it is receives the same skepticism, the same genuine surprise at the audacious question.
The indifference of moments before is gone entirely, replaced by the disbelieving frown and shake of the head that accompanies the Ambassador’s assertion that Lepis should not be here. What has so emboldened the other mare, Lepis wonders? Has she grown so shameless that she thinks to direct Lepis? How many other families has she destroyed to be so bold, so cocksure of her ability to command and be followed? Lepis had been fond of the Taigan mare, and those qualities she had enjoyed in a friend are the same she distrusts in an enemy.
Her temper flares, fanned on by the irritation of damp wings and water on her skin. Lepis keeps a hold of it, and does not give the mare the response she deserves for such insolence. Only her flicking ears, briefly pinned into the soaked tangle of her navy mane, does she allow the other to see her irritation.
“Why is that?” she asks instead of inspiring Lilliana to fling herself from the nearest cliff in despair, or attack the first Nerenian she finds in a fit of unbridled rage. She will find out the cause of this, Lepis tells herself, and then she’ll decide the most fitting punishment.
LEPIS
i’m the one who sees you home--
but now i’m lost in the woods
and i don’t know what path you are on |
