01-23-2020, 12:05 AM
Over time, Noah has managed to distance herself from the sharpest of her grief. Distance from the event numbs it, blurs it, and she has other things to think about. But when it hits, it’s an overwhelming wave and it feels as if she is drowning. The triggers are fewer and farther between, now, but the pale mare manages one quite unknowingly.
Ilma’s voice is friendly and pleasant, and she mentions the plague without giving the event much thought at all, but it brings Noah to a grinding halt, static filling her mind. It buries her, images of the single worst day of her life flashing across her mind; she puts one foot in front of the other without even knowing what she is doing, surfacing only briefly to pose the question about where the other mare is from, blinking to try and stay focused, but when the word plague is used again, she has to look away and she steps away.
Vaguely, she is aware that her breathing is uneven, her body trembling ever so faintly. The little roan isn’t quite sure how to proceed – while she is no stranger to the panic and the grief, this is the first time is has happened in a situation where it would be difficult for her to just up and leave. “If you do nothing,” she manages to say, “If you let it happen; are you as bad as the perpetrators?” Her voice, though still almost inaudibly quiet, is accusing here, in a way she didn’t intend. That is the anguish speaking.
“I’m sorry. I…” Snapping isn’t in her nature. Already, Noah wants to take it back. She doesn’t lift her face to Ilma’s, darting only the briefest glance before turning away, looking out over her Pampas. A part of her still wants to flee this discussion, and retreat to lick her wounds; but she holds fast, the thinnest wire of determination where others might have a spine of iron. “Rhonen was my father.” Another glance, fleeting, to see if Ilma recognizes the name without context. Was she one who saw the vision? One who chose to act upon it, or one who ignored it? That is a question Noah will never ask of anyone, because she cannot bear their answers. Too many had chosen to do as the evil magician bade them. “When they murdered him, it gave Carnage what he needed to set loose the plague. He was disconnected from politics. We were wanderers, never settling, never getting involved. They used us for destruction anyway.” Us, because little lonely Noah had been drawn to the first quest, to his pleas for help, and Rhonen would not have been in Pangea to be murdered if Noah had not led him there herself, unknowing.
Is this what friends do? She is fairly sure that Lepis knows her story, Bane and Castile as well, but she has never discussed it with them. They lived through the plague together, and so she had never needed to explain herself to them. This is new ground she is covering, extending this trust, but it feels…if not right, exactly, then ok. “I am a healer by nature, too; though I cannot heal wounds, only disease. The Pampas has been a sanctuary since the plague hit, a safe place, but I cannot afford to pretend the political world around me does not exist.” Finally, finally she can lift her hazel eyes upwards, seeking her companion’s face. This recent history is less painful for her, easier to speak of. “When I claimed this herdland, intending it to be a quiet sanctuary, I would not have been able to defend it without the support of a stronger land. Loess and its leaders have always protected and sheltered me, upholding my claim here. The first leaders of Sylva were the opposite – they wanted to take advantage of me, and they were dangerous.”
Noah smiles gently when she speaks of Loess, her bonds to its Kings (recent past and current) warm and strong, but there are shadows in her eyes when she remembers Sylva’s rulers. “I do not wish to wage war, and Castile would never ask it of me. He continues to shelter us, though my little land does little for Loess. I give him nothing but my loyalty, and my friendship, though I would help him in any way I could.” She knows nothing about Ilma’s possible history with her friends, because she rarely leaves the Pampas and when she does, she isn’t exactly a social butterfly. “I learned that you are never really uninvolved, so I’d rather try to steer my own involvement.”
Ilma’s voice is friendly and pleasant, and she mentions the plague without giving the event much thought at all, but it brings Noah to a grinding halt, static filling her mind. It buries her, images of the single worst day of her life flashing across her mind; she puts one foot in front of the other without even knowing what she is doing, surfacing only briefly to pose the question about where the other mare is from, blinking to try and stay focused, but when the word plague is used again, she has to look away and she steps away.
Vaguely, she is aware that her breathing is uneven, her body trembling ever so faintly. The little roan isn’t quite sure how to proceed – while she is no stranger to the panic and the grief, this is the first time is has happened in a situation where it would be difficult for her to just up and leave. “If you do nothing,” she manages to say, “If you let it happen; are you as bad as the perpetrators?” Her voice, though still almost inaudibly quiet, is accusing here, in a way she didn’t intend. That is the anguish speaking.
“I’m sorry. I…” Snapping isn’t in her nature. Already, Noah wants to take it back. She doesn’t lift her face to Ilma’s, darting only the briefest glance before turning away, looking out over her Pampas. A part of her still wants to flee this discussion, and retreat to lick her wounds; but she holds fast, the thinnest wire of determination where others might have a spine of iron. “Rhonen was my father.” Another glance, fleeting, to see if Ilma recognizes the name without context. Was she one who saw the vision? One who chose to act upon it, or one who ignored it? That is a question Noah will never ask of anyone, because she cannot bear their answers. Too many had chosen to do as the evil magician bade them. “When they murdered him, it gave Carnage what he needed to set loose the plague. He was disconnected from politics. We were wanderers, never settling, never getting involved. They used us for destruction anyway.” Us, because little lonely Noah had been drawn to the first quest, to his pleas for help, and Rhonen would not have been in Pangea to be murdered if Noah had not led him there herself, unknowing.
Is this what friends do? She is fairly sure that Lepis knows her story, Bane and Castile as well, but she has never discussed it with them. They lived through the plague together, and so she had never needed to explain herself to them. This is new ground she is covering, extending this trust, but it feels…if not right, exactly, then ok. “I am a healer by nature, too; though I cannot heal wounds, only disease. The Pampas has been a sanctuary since the plague hit, a safe place, but I cannot afford to pretend the political world around me does not exist.” Finally, finally she can lift her hazel eyes upwards, seeking her companion’s face. This recent history is less painful for her, easier to speak of. “When I claimed this herdland, intending it to be a quiet sanctuary, I would not have been able to defend it without the support of a stronger land. Loess and its leaders have always protected and sheltered me, upholding my claim here. The first leaders of Sylva were the opposite – they wanted to take advantage of me, and they were dangerous.”
Noah smiles gently when she speaks of Loess, her bonds to its Kings (recent past and current) warm and strong, but there are shadows in her eyes when she remembers Sylva’s rulers. “I do not wish to wage war, and Castile would never ask it of me. He continues to shelter us, though my little land does little for Loess. I give him nothing but my loyalty, and my friendship, though I would help him in any way I could.” She knows nothing about Ilma’s possible history with her friends, because she rarely leaves the Pampas and when she does, she isn’t exactly a social butterfly. “I learned that you are never really uninvolved, so I’d rather try to steer my own involvement.”
NOAH
that's all there is
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@[Ilma] <3