She notes with both surprise and comfort that the mare does not seem at all shocked by her riotous appearance. She rather detests the multicoloured coat that the faerie has cursed her with - it reminds her too much of the stories her mother had told her of Elite. The Valley queen had been burned by Carnage’s fire and when her hair had grown back it had all been pink. Syl does not like to think that, with her own change in coat colour, she is becoming more like her grandmother.
Speaking of which … her colour isn’t the only way that the faerie changed her. She’d tried to avoid thinking of it, but now that she’s thinking about her coat colour, her mind can’t help but wander to it …
She hadn’t really understood what Grumblesnakes had meant, when he had mentioned a ‘gift.’ She hadn’t figured it out until she’d been dropped back in Orange Country and had accidentally stumbled into a small boulder in a shocked haze. The rock had exploded on impact, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces, and scratching up her legs with the shrapnel.
Shattering, he had called it. So like Elite’s disintegration.
The mare is asking her a question now and she drags her mind through the fog back to the present. What was it Sloene had said? The mare must think her off in the head. “Oh, umm.” She hasn’t even really thought about foals since coming here. He hasn’t even brought up the subject with her, though she supposes she should give him a child at some point. He’s been so kind to her, he deserves that much. But what kind of parent would she even be? She doesn’t know the first thing about raising a child. But she shouldn’t think of that now. “Not at all. I’ve been here through two autumns, and he’s never even talked about it with me.”
syl
when you think of love do you think of pain?