She's got the devil's eyes
She had been waiting for him. She couldn’t know how long it would take him to arrive after his grandfather had made that fateful request of her, but she has patience. She had warned Wyrm she would be watching, and, for all her other faults, she is always true to her word.
Mist hangs heavily over the Northern kingdom, cloaking the crashing shores and casting a formidable gray over the landscape. For any other creature, visibility would be poor in the swirling drizzle and thick wetness of the landscape, but Heartfire is hardly any other creature. Even in this, she has no trouble keeping a watchful eye on her kingdom. Nor does she have any trouble following Wolfbane as he alights on the rocky cliffline bordering the majority of Nerine.
She rests quietly on the still shores of the lake, her blue gaze fixed on the hard gray surface. The mottled gray and white of her slim form is darkened by the dampness hanging in the chill spring air, the dark strands of her mane and forelock clinging to her skin. There is nothing spectacular in her appearance in that moment. Only the image of a lone, rather ordinary mare. A little too slim, perhaps, with eyes a little too blue, but nothing like the brightly colored pegasus now approaching her.
Though she had followed his path through the kingdom, her eyes rise as he comes into sight. He is indistinct through the mist, but she knows without question it is him. She’d kept an eye on him, of course, as much as she could. It became more difficult with distance, but her talents have grown with practice over the years. He might guess, but he couldn’t know how closely she watches all of them. She may not be overt in her affections, but they are hers. Would forever be hers.
“Wolfbane,” she returns by way of greeting, her voice echoing across the waters despite its lack of volume. “I’ve been expecting you.”
and they'll cut you like a weapon