While loneliness had suited her, there had always been a small part of her that wanted to be a part of a family. When she had been young, she had never been given the sort of attention the other children of her herd received. She had been tucked away into the shadows, only ever confronted when her elders wanted a blessing or for her to point out an omen. The things she had told them were empty promises, little more than meaningless gestures and useless stories. Yet they had been happy, they had truly believed that she was some reborn soul and that she was born only to help and to serve them.

That was the first reason she twisted away, stepping back as her smile fades and their light hearted conversation turns dark and almost painful. Liit feels silly, really, for having trusted strangers so quickly. The stories that Abishia tells sounds more like the tales she had been told to keep her from wandering too far from her original home, like there was something dark and evil beyond the distant hills, and the only way to find the light- to find salvation, was to stay there, with her. Pushing back her pale ears, the horned mare drops her eyes from the painted girl’s face after she has displayed the way her horn meets her forhead.

It’s like she’s been lied to, told that she had found one of her kind, and suddenly she is not real. “So you’re not like me… How do I know what you say is true?” She asks quietly, staring down at the white ocean froth that spills up the coast, running around her hooves. The ocean always dragged her back, enticed her towards the edge of the earth because it was safe and offered promise. Still staring at the water, she lets her pale forelock fall in front of her eyes while she is looking down. “When I was a child, I was told stories, stories that I can assure you, were not true. I was told that I did things, I saved lives… but I’m fairly certain none of that happened.”

Her soft voice cuts across the gentle hiss of the sea. Liit is not afraid to divulge the tales of her past, because to her, perhaps this wasn’t really happening. Perhaps this was another false memory that had been implanted in her brain since she was a child. Yet, she was fully aware that this was really happening, and that she had indeed been inducted into a herd, a family, perhaps even a home without really knowing how much she had bitten off that she would be unable to chew. “I’ve become a support of seeing is believing…” The speckled mare does not take her eyes away from the water, she’s too sorry, and she’s not entirely ready to look at the girl just yet. “I’m sorry.”