| Outcast |
| Mare :: Equine :: 14.2hh :: 8 |
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Herophilos :: Plain Black Dragon :: Toxic Breath
prissy |
12-10-2015, 09:11 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-10-2015, 09:11 PM by Agnodice.)
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Someone's blocking my sun.
The duchess' curvaceous ears flicked backwards, turquoise gaze flicking to the chestnut mare who had situated herself right in front of Agnodice's sun. Her lips pursed into a frown, glancing up at the mare with a striking glare. Her perky greeting and kind, innocent words did not help Agnodice feel any less resentment for the mare.
A small voice in the back of her head cursed her, ("Agnodice! Don't frown, a princess is polite, a princess is supple, a princess is soft," her mother would say) the alabaster and onyx mare's own inadequacy was only adding more gasoline to this fire.
"Agnodice," she spoke softly, flatly, moving her eyes back to her herbs. She pulled her legs closer to her body, tossing a tendril of long, onyx mane from her face to see better (though the silky lock would return to where it had been in only a few moments, it always does). "I'm sorting herbs," She stated, nosing one of her small piles to make sure no pieces were out of place. She flicked an ear towards the mare, curious as to what she would do. Dice had never said she couldn't join her, but she never said she could.
Stomp.
Squish.
Stomp.
Agnodice's eyes moved to the dark horse approaching, mentally groaning at his presence. She was just trying to have a relaxing evening to sort herbs, but that did not seem like much of a possibility at this moment. She expected him to nicker something trivial, a greeting, or attempt to seduce them. That is not what happened.
"Who are you?" His voice came dripping with hostility.
The mare sat there for a moment, brow raised, taken aback. No one had ever spoke to her like that. He smelled of the falls (despite being soaked, his wet dog smell had a distinctive forested twinge to it).
"Who am I? Who are you? Does your nose fail you? We live in the same herd. I've lived here for months. I'm a healer," Her voice was it's usual monotone, though it began to develop a mocking sense to it. She rose from her resting place, moving to stand between the boy and her glass basket. "What is your rank? A spy, a crafter, a warrior? Maybe the next time I see your little carcass on the brink of death, I'll leave you for dead. Though I'm not sure that even the vultures would find an appetite for your rotten flesh," She flicked her tail, her words flowing and ebbing despite their harshness.
"Think before you speak, boy. Apologize to Ryeline. She does not deserve to be spoken to in that manner," Agnodice spat, turning her head away from the stallion in disgust. She wasn't angry, she was offended. But like her view on sexism, she believed that ignorance could be healed.
The mare's eyes moved to her hooves before trailing back up to the stallion. "I'm Agnodice. Would you like to join us? We're sunbathing and sorting herbs," She spoke, less harsh this time, hoping Ryeline wouldn't mind being dragged into her plans. Her features had softened, eyes round and doe like. She wasn't quick to forgive, but she was quick to heal. She had already formulated a plan to heal his unworldly mind, and this was just a piece of that. Perhaps she could teach the boy about a couple herbs. If he were some sort of fighter, then it would be useful for him to have knowledge of something that could be used to heal a few minor injuries. That would be somewhere to start, at least.
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Image Credits
You’d stick the world into your bedside lane
It’s boredom makes you callous to all pain
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