Her disappointment that this is not Kagerus, lasts only a moment.
When Lilliana has stopped in front of the dual-toned mare, it is gone. The Taigan tilts her head to the left, admiring where the stark contrast of her coloring met. Like dawn rising above the horizon. Like Warlight’s ancestors couldn't find agreement and between the ancestry of Kagerus and Solace, here she was in a vibrant splash of color.
The spots that Lilliana spies in the dying light illuminate one indication of who the other mare is but when she smiles, well. Lilli knows that smile.
It's the same smile that has unwound Lilliana time and time again, when she found herself knotted and tangled with so many emotions. It immediately puts her at ease and it shows in the relaxed one she gives Warlight. It’s not the diplomatic (false) one she has to wear so often these days; like the hazy sun-glow that paints Tephra in gold, it comes naturally.
"Well met,” says Valerio’s daughter with a flourishing smile that reaches her blue eyes. "Lilliana,” she offers and then, "A friend of your mother.” Friend feels, perhaps, a bit tentative considering that Kagerus has taken on the role of mentor in Lilliana’s life. It had been Kagerus who had given her that first sense of purpose when she had been so new to Beqana as the former Caretaker tried to regain her strength. It had been Kagerus who had known that her children were dreaming long before Lilliana could even fathom they existed.
(She owes Kagerus a great deal.)
@[Warlight] speaks of her ailment like another horse might speak of the weather. There is a measure of pride that reflects when the painted woman heads towards the water, with her head held high and her shoulders set despite her lean frame. Lilliana’s warm expression dims (but that might the shadows arguing with the sunset) and the copper mare follows, a few steps behind the Tephran towards the lake.
There were rumors… it had healing properties. Was that why Warlight was drinking from it now?
Lilliana stops and the only response to her companion’s answer is the way that she stiffens, just slightly. A heartbeat, really. The Mountain, for Lilliana, had been a place of summoning; she knew for others that it could be a place of bartering. One power for another, if the Faeries could be so inclined.
"What did you ask for?” she says, her voice falling flat. Lilliana blasphemed the Mountain, once. She’s learned since then that there is no greater power than their Mountain. There is no blaspheming it.
It always has a price.
LILLIANA
if i ever get to heaven
i've got a long list of questions