05-21-2020, 11:37 AM
Hey all you cool cats and kittens
Perhaps, to some extent, Neverwhere has the advantage of expectation; she can hardly be shocked when the small den is discovered by Lepis. In spite of the way her attention falls across the nursing colt, she is not so oblivious that she does not hear hooves approaching or the rustle of tree boughs disturbed, and when the little dun mare pokes her head through, Neverwhere turns to glare at her in time to see the last vestige of surprise passing over her face.
This is not a moment she would choose to share with anyone, but Lepis isn’t even on the list of Neutrals, and still, for all that, she nearly laughs at the cold welcome.
“Are you sure you don’t want it? I thought maybe you would, you’ve raised so many of them.”
There is an implication behind the words that she would in fact leave the colt, and gladly, but it had not been her intention to do so. The dappled mare makes no attempt to pretend the boy is something he is not – nor does she assume that if she wanted to do so, Lepis would take that bait. There has never been any part of Neverwhere that might be described as shame, and if others have fallen to that emotion in similar footing, she would not. There is nothing about the scars on her skin that suggest this was a desired interaction.
“Never you mind, Lepis, I’ve already stayed longer than I intended.”
Whispers and rumors had reached her in the forest, the unrest in Taiga and the silence in Nerine. Both rather status quo, she thinks, but there is a chilling undercurrent to them this time and she is anxious to return. There had been a time that Neverwhere thought she should ask Pteron to go and take word of her to Eurwen, to Brazen, to someone, but even that seemed to come with risk, to her, but also to him. She is not so sure that Wolfbane would have tried to kill her just then, especially not as she became noticeably pregnant, but the risk to Pteron’s family was potentially significant and she’d opted to remain “lost.” This is not something she shares with Lepis, who seems so sure she has kept her relentlessly shape-changing ex-husband out of her kingdom.
Instead of speaking, she turns back to the colt in dismay. He has finished nursing and turns to look at the Loessian queen with sleepy eyes. He is bold – neither of his parents might be described as shy – and tries to approach, but he is clumsy, too, on new legs unused to gravity or obstacles, and barely three steps out, he trips suddenly, falling into a tangle of limbs, legs and wings and bodies. As suddenly as he hits the ground, there are two colts, mirroring one another, kicking, bleating, and becoming enmeshed. Neverwhere snorts and starts, jumping aside from the jumble of boy and duplicate in surprise. Her breath rolls in her nostrils, and then, forgetting Lepis for a moment, she tentatively steps forward again, pressing her muzzle firmly against one of the squirming bodies until it quiets. The second colt phases out and she turns her gaze back to Lepis with a wry smile.
“Are you sure you don’t want him?”
This is not a moment she would choose to share with anyone, but Lepis isn’t even on the list of Neutrals, and still, for all that, she nearly laughs at the cold welcome.
“Are you sure you don’t want it? I thought maybe you would, you’ve raised so many of them.”
There is an implication behind the words that she would in fact leave the colt, and gladly, but it had not been her intention to do so. The dappled mare makes no attempt to pretend the boy is something he is not – nor does she assume that if she wanted to do so, Lepis would take that bait. There has never been any part of Neverwhere that might be described as shame, and if others have fallen to that emotion in similar footing, she would not. There is nothing about the scars on her skin that suggest this was a desired interaction.
“Never you mind, Lepis, I’ve already stayed longer than I intended.”
Whispers and rumors had reached her in the forest, the unrest in Taiga and the silence in Nerine. Both rather status quo, she thinks, but there is a chilling undercurrent to them this time and she is anxious to return. There had been a time that Neverwhere thought she should ask Pteron to go and take word of her to Eurwen, to Brazen, to someone, but even that seemed to come with risk, to her, but also to him. She is not so sure that Wolfbane would have tried to kill her just then, especially not as she became noticeably pregnant, but the risk to Pteron’s family was potentially significant and she’d opted to remain “lost.” This is not something she shares with Lepis, who seems so sure she has kept her relentlessly shape-changing ex-husband out of her kingdom.
Instead of speaking, she turns back to the colt in dismay. He has finished nursing and turns to look at the Loessian queen with sleepy eyes. He is bold – neither of his parents might be described as shy – and tries to approach, but he is clumsy, too, on new legs unused to gravity or obstacles, and barely three steps out, he trips suddenly, falling into a tangle of limbs, legs and wings and bodies. As suddenly as he hits the ground, there are two colts, mirroring one another, kicking, bleating, and becoming enmeshed. Neverwhere snorts and starts, jumping aside from the jumble of boy and duplicate in surprise. Her breath rolls in her nostrils, and then, forgetting Lepis for a moment, she tentatively steps forward again, pressing her muzzle firmly against one of the squirming bodies until it quiets. The second colt phases out and she turns her gaze back to Lepis with a wry smile.
“Are you sure you don’t want him?”
That bitch, Neverwhere
@[Lepis]
