Sabra
A flicker of short-tempered irritation flares across my features at the girl's question. I rein the feeling in on a deep breath, fighting to remember that she's only a child. I can't reasonably expect the curiosity to stay inside her head or her mouth. My displeasure is instead expressed with a flipping of my tail and the thinning of my lips and nothing more.
"The flowers will recover, I'm sure." I drawled, sparing a glance for the herbs in question. They were, in fact, speckled with crimson droplets, glossy on their matte petals and leaves. A faint thing between grimace and smile played my mouth. Almost beautiful, really. Bland as milk I returned my gaze to the girl in her concern.
Her quick words seemed to have been swallowed up into a stubborn shell. "That, is a spear. The tip of it sits in my heart which, as I'm sure you can imagine, does very little in the way of improving my demeanor. Especially when being questioned by nosy little girls." The smile on my mouth stretched into something that would have looked more at home on a shark, if sharks were born with dull teeth. "Good job though," I added as an afterthought. "If you're going to be nosy, you may as well get used to defending your words."
I continue my examination of the slight young thing as I wait for her to respond to my initial question. Her answer causes my nostrils to flare. "Don't be cute. You know perfectly well I meant your name." My own ice blue eyes cut at her warningly. "'You don't know yet', child, there are horses far older and wiser than yourself who don't know who they really are. Now. Do you have a name, or did your mother neglect to give you one before seeing you off." The sharp words soften towards the end of my bitter tirade. I myself had a child who'd been named only after I'd died. It was far from impossible that this iridescent fey girl had met a similar fate in life.
I wanna be Immortal, like a God in the sky
I wanna be a silk flower, like I'm never gonna die
Photo by Kareva Margarita
@[hypatia]