12-15-2019, 06:32 AM
Eurwen
the secret of walking on water
is knowing where the rocks lie
is knowing where the rocks lie
It takes a few heartbeats... Then, as soon as she opens her mouth to call out, a winged woman is upon her, still smelly with Loess, mother’s milk, and smoke - but enough of the Taigan mist about her to be noticed, had Eurwen had the chance to further analyze her scent.
She does not; the woman rears, spreads her draconic wings like a shield, and keeps on pushing until Eurwen is practically back at the border. The rocks on the forest floor seem to tremble as if in warning, and for a moment it feels like the wind is reacting, too - but she drops it. There is hardly a choice when one gets attacked like that, predator or horse, but to back down: hoofs are terrible when they hit your face, regardless of what damage one does in return, regardless if the other has teeth or fire at their disposal or not. She knows this, and is not foolish enough to try a young mother’s wrath, however unjust that wrath may be.
It is when they reach the border, that suddenly the other mare calms down, and Eurwen finally registers what was said, recoiling without caring for the diplomatic approach she had had in mind earlier that day - before she was practically attacked for walking a few yards beyond the border. ”Your forest? This is the North, and I happen to live in the North! Longer than you, I might add.” Long enough to know the alliance says free passage for Nerinians, and freedom for Taiga; no interference from Nerine where it concerns internal matters. She doesn’t recall Lepis or Pteron changing that. Her tone grows a little dark, her near-black eyes on fire. She does not have to take this - she’s not gone to save the world to be treated like this, she’s not some carpet to be waltzed over. No deer in the headlights, no. The dragon-like mare may be a real danger, but the spotted mare puts that knowledge in a far corner of her mind. In fact, she is by far not as terrifying as the monsters in the Cove, or the things that happened at the Mountain, which were even worse; Eurwen may be shaken a little initially, but she refuses to be scared any longer than the first few seconds - no longer than necessary. It is smouldering anger, just about kept in check, that is projected at the other in the moment.
It takes her a while longer to place the mare, now that she looks calmed down. Six years have passed in Beqanna, but the woman mentions her name and the playground, and so she racks her brain for a name, a meeting. ”Ah. The girl who needed to prove she was a dragon.” A snort. ”What’s that about this being your home, Reia? Aren’t you Loess’ princess any more?” She knew of Lepis being here, but surely she had not brought Reia with her - oh, look! The rose-spotted mare tilts her head at the small child, distracted by the movement; the blue sheen the only thing marking the filly different from her mother - and the lack of scales and such. That must be why she’s no longer home, she thinks. A lover. She looks to Reia with the question in her eyes - cast out or moved willingly? Little bit of both?
They’re interrupted by another mare, or filly, or… well, let’s say teenager. She asks if they know one another, and Eurwen, much calmer now, shakes her head. ”We’ve met, but I wouldn’t go that far.” And that was about all to it, she thinks. She would not claim to know the mare well. After all, if they had been actually acquainted, Reia could have known that the Nerinian royalty (after all, her cousin was still the queen) was not here to harm her land; she could have known she wasn’t here to hurt. This however, seemed an awful lot like their very first meeting - Reia insulting her and treating her as lesser and her prey, and Eurwen defying that very idea but never really coming through a certain someone’s thick layer of opinions.
And neither predator has any idea who or what they’re messing with, it seems.
Eurwen knows of magic - not the kind her mother has, nor the kind her father is (not unlike Reia herself). She carries their makeup, however. The spotted mare has become more of a warrior than she or anyone else knowing her or her mother, would have predicted when she was young. More like the adult-self she and her cousins had become when they fought the monsters, she would notice later on - and perhaps, the fairy had been right. Stubborn as a rock, to go against Reia’s proclamations in the moment.
She does not; the woman rears, spreads her draconic wings like a shield, and keeps on pushing until Eurwen is practically back at the border. The rocks on the forest floor seem to tremble as if in warning, and for a moment it feels like the wind is reacting, too - but she drops it. There is hardly a choice when one gets attacked like that, predator or horse, but to back down: hoofs are terrible when they hit your face, regardless of what damage one does in return, regardless if the other has teeth or fire at their disposal or not. She knows this, and is not foolish enough to try a young mother’s wrath, however unjust that wrath may be.
It is when they reach the border, that suddenly the other mare calms down, and Eurwen finally registers what was said, recoiling without caring for the diplomatic approach she had had in mind earlier that day - before she was practically attacked for walking a few yards beyond the border. ”Your forest? This is the North, and I happen to live in the North! Longer than you, I might add.” Long enough to know the alliance says free passage for Nerinians, and freedom for Taiga; no interference from Nerine where it concerns internal matters. She doesn’t recall Lepis or Pteron changing that. Her tone grows a little dark, her near-black eyes on fire. She does not have to take this - she’s not gone to save the world to be treated like this, she’s not some carpet to be waltzed over. No deer in the headlights, no. The dragon-like mare may be a real danger, but the spotted mare puts that knowledge in a far corner of her mind. In fact, she is by far not as terrifying as the monsters in the Cove, or the things that happened at the Mountain, which were even worse; Eurwen may be shaken a little initially, but she refuses to be scared any longer than the first few seconds - no longer than necessary. It is smouldering anger, just about kept in check, that is projected at the other in the moment.
It takes her a while longer to place the mare, now that she looks calmed down. Six years have passed in Beqanna, but the woman mentions her name and the playground, and so she racks her brain for a name, a meeting. ”Ah. The girl who needed to prove she was a dragon.” A snort. ”What’s that about this being your home, Reia? Aren’t you Loess’ princess any more?” She knew of Lepis being here, but surely she had not brought Reia with her - oh, look! The rose-spotted mare tilts her head at the small child, distracted by the movement; the blue sheen the only thing marking the filly different from her mother - and the lack of scales and such. That must be why she’s no longer home, she thinks. A lover. She looks to Reia with the question in her eyes - cast out or moved willingly? Little bit of both?
They’re interrupted by another mare, or filly, or… well, let’s say teenager. She asks if they know one another, and Eurwen, much calmer now, shakes her head. ”We’ve met, but I wouldn’t go that far.” And that was about all to it, she thinks. She would not claim to know the mare well. After all, if they had been actually acquainted, Reia could have known that the Nerinian royalty (after all, her cousin was still the queen) was not here to harm her land; she could have known she wasn’t here to hurt. This however, seemed an awful lot like their very first meeting - Reia insulting her and treating her as lesser and her prey, and Eurwen defying that very idea but never really coming through a certain someone’s thick layer of opinions.
And neither predator has any idea who or what they’re messing with, it seems.
Eurwen knows of magic - not the kind her mother has, nor the kind her father is (not unlike Reia herself). She carries their makeup, however. The spotted mare has become more of a warrior than she or anyone else knowing her or her mother, would have predicted when she was young. More like the adult-self she and her cousins had become when they fought the monsters, she would notice later on - and perhaps, the fairy had been right. Stubborn as a rock, to go against Reia’s proclamations in the moment.
Ehh.