.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-27-2013, 06:07 AM
As soon as the words slipped through her parted lips, Nasreen had the inexplicable urge to snatch them back. No, no, this was crazy. Addressing a total stranger as if she knew him…and on top of all that, he could be dangerous for gods’ sakes, and here she was stopping to shoot the breeze! Nasreen’s head was spinning. It was funny how she could want something so badly, could search for it night and day…and then, when that something proved to be real, she could completely deny its existence. Nasreen had been seeking clues to Th’orqui’s whereabouts from the minute she had set foot in Helovia, yet when one of the biggest pieces of her past stood before her, in the flesh, she was frozen, head under wing, talking herself out of what could be the best thing that had happened to her in a very, very long time. This could NOT be Quilyan; Quilyan was gone, and he didn’t even look like this stallion anyway; Quil was--
“Hello, Nasreen.”
Her light eyes widened. Helplessly, she watched as the stallion drew closer. It was as if she was in a dream: he moved slowly, yet purposefully, and she was stuck, unable to lift a hoof to help herself. All she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears and the silent chant of the mantra that had been running through her head at an ever-increasing speed since she had uttered her brother’s name: This cannot be Quilyan, this CANNOT be Quilyan, this cannot be… His muzzle grazed her rump, and she flinched—she did not know why. But then again, Nasreen did not know why she wasn’t running far, far away right now, and she didn’t know why she’d even mentioned Quilyan’s name in the first place because--
“What in the world are you doing, Reeni? The world makes a little more sense right side up, you know.”
She lost it. “QUILLY!” she shrieked, falling into his shoulder and covering him in nuzzles of affection and desperation. Nasreen had begun both sobbing and laughing hysterically, and between gasps was choking out weird and fragmented pieces of her story—her escape from Th’orqui, Amara’s death, her arrival in the Edge, how scared she had been—and asking him a million questions. What had happened to the others? Were they here, too? How long had he been here? How did they get home? She did not doubt for a moment that he knew the answers; he always did—he was her big brother, after all.
After a good ten minutes of blubbering and hysteria, Nasreen was struck with the horrifying realization that Quil might think he had been mistaken. The sister he had left behind had been a baby, but she was no babbling fool. What if he was entertaining thoughts of turning tail and running? She wouldn’t blame him. Not fifteen minutes ago, she had been thinking of doing the same, and she hadn’t even pegged him as a lunatic, the way he doubtlessly must see her. But the tears had a mind of their own. Why couldn’t she keep it together?!
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she managed, when her sobs had grown somewhat quieter. “It’s just…it’s really you.” Nasreen gave a glittering smile through her tears, gazing at the face of her brother.
Please do not tag Nasreen except for in opening posts and in spars!
