PRAGUE
a touch of wicked, pinch of risqué
As much as Prague knew Texas disliked her magic, as much as she liked to truly only use it in times of need; practice was needed. Prague had entered the battlefields many times as a mare, tangible - a target. She had never been given a chance to enter as a magician but with the days passing as they often do, more and more magicians are joining from far away lands or being born. She has never tested or been tested in her abilities.
When he dismisses her concerns, a part of her feels insignificant and belittled but she knows just as well as if she were looking into a mirror; perhaps that's what they were. Texas and Prague went back and forth throughout the years, on and off again but they always show each other oneself in some way or another. She can hear her heart palpating more rapidly with every minute that's passing. When he tells her she isn't going to die, a small wave of relief washes over her but then she remembers Texas is not like her; he can't predict nor glimpse into the future. If the gray mare wasn't sure, how could he be such? Granted, it would be a long fight to the grave it was possible. Aren't all things? "I wish I could believe that," she says, quietly and softly; perhaps the most feminine and vulnerable she has been since her naive days of a child-Queen. A time before even Texas knew her. She moves toward Texas, her gray mare lips at his mane near his ears and provides herself with an opportunity to self-soothe. Her honey eyes close as she pushes her neck further down and drawing her body nearer. She rests her head on his withers, even if they were slightly bonier than the last time; she sighs knowing that he would not like what would come next. He may decline it but he would more likely just bitch about it.
"I need you to keep a part of me safe during this time," she says, although she has never done such a maneuver nor dreamed that it would be something she gave to another person. Although the Jungle was a great contender, it could not walk the earth, it could not care for her like her only resemblance of love. It will not care for her like a friend which was what they were before anything else. They felt very similar about one another and like the bay, she would not speak of such things unless death were eminent. "Will you take it?" she asks, her heartbeat surrounding them as her respirations continue on, she means her heart of course. "I will make it where you know if I am in danger," she whispers to him and rubs her cheek against the middle of his back, "or worse." "I am not politically in the know, the last I was in the Jungle Scorch allied with anyone and welcomed men in our home. With Lagertha, things are a tad different but if you say an alliance is what we have; I'm sure we do."
If she could ever stay in a moment, perhaps her life wouldn't be so difficult.