Dim light traced the odd lines on Lace's nose with blue fire as he hoisted his head abruptly toward her. He said her name with a tone of surprise, to which she bowed her head gently, velvet ears flicking momentarily backwards with humility. "I've interrupted you," she murmured, brows furrowing slightly as blue eyes considered him thoughtfully; discomfort plagued the silver-crested (which reminded the girl of shallow waves lapping upon a sandy shore) stallion's face, and he shuffled his hooves. These strange islands, engulfed by the slow-moving fire water were places of worship, she knew. Though the blue lady did not abide by these gods and their magic, Lace might have adopted them as patrons. She exhaled gently, breaking the artless silence that stretched like an endless ocean between them. "I'm sorry—" Huyana began, before she caught Lace's golden eyes, which scintillated like cut topaz with blue light, contemplating her grossly swelled sides with wonder. A small smile doted upon her lips, speaking words that she could not possible express. Lace thrust his dark muzzle in the direction of her ever enlarging belly, filled with the promise of new life, the happiness and love she felt trumping how cumbersome and inept her swelling body had become. "Thank you," she murmured, dark ears turning back graciously.
Solid hooves shuffled upon the black stone as the grullo gestured for the roan to come closer. Obliging gladly, she picked a careful way toward him, no longer graceful and fluid in motion, but toddling and ponderous. Pausing beside him, Huyana let her blue gaze rove over his light form with more care, relieved that no physical harm had come to the spiderwebbed glazier. Who is the lucky stallion? he wondered, and if she could have, a blush would have spread over her cheeks; instead, she let her smile widen a fraction and turned her dark ears back bashfully. "He is a warrior," the blue lady said, a hint of indisposition like bitterness in her words, though the softness in her eyes said otherwise. "Deimos." Gazing at him steadily, she tilted her head, wondering if he would make anything of the name.
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[P] Bless me, for I have sinned
