He is watching the old stallion but she is watching him, with her white eyes and unblinking gaze. It is a relief when he does not call her a monster, when he does not reject this course of action as being insane - and she smiles a ghost of a smile when he asks a question. Curiosity, she thinks, is a good thing. Even though she thinks he should know already. It still has not occurred to her that the Jamie she spoke to in the fog of the afterlife was not actuall Jamie. Instead she brushes off this incontinuity as a disjoint in his memory depending on whether is is more horse than reaper - another thing that, surely, will be solved by all she has planned.
“Two. My sister and yours - not Liv, another.” This fact she only learned very recently, when speaking to Anaxarete. Bringing the radioactive girl back to life had been an accident, an overshoot of her young and wild magic, but she was happy to know that she had not left one of Ana’s children to die on the bottom of that cliff. “But I promised a third as well. Four might have been more poetic but.. Well, I don’t think either of us were thinking about that at the time.”
It’s only now that she wonders whether there would have been something more ritualistic about four sacrifices in the four directions. But she is still a little queasy with the idea of killing at all, no matter what her cool exterior suggests.
She finally looks away from the shadowy reaper and steps towards the old stallion, her crystalline muzzle brushing up against his cheek. He does not react, so lost in the peaceful haze she has created for him.
“If you do not wish to watch, I won’t mind.” This is a concession made for a differe Jamie, one with more emotion in his voice and one who she hoped to be friends with but she was not. She does not think the young stallion standing with her now will turn his gaze away.
