» blythe flipped her forelock so it more fully covered the gash across her cheek, the oozing mess not fit to be seen by the general public. It ached slightly but the pain remained rather manageable, though she knew that the sight of it was unappealing to those around her. Her auds flicked back and forth between the mare and coltine, noting how she was brought into the conversation, but barely. She chastised herself internally, having brought herself into a meeting of which she had no right. This infernal tongue. She bit it softly, as if the addition of pressure would allow her to hold it in check from wagging itself loosely any more. She instead tried to focus her mind on listening intently to the words passing between the two, gathering her thoughts in her mind before she would allow them passage over her pastel muscle. It was difficult for her, her young mind still exuberant with her own thoughts, beliefs, but it was only polite. This, she knew, was a situation that required a bit more finesse than her years could offer, the mare too often ruled by emotion, than thought.
» she was trying, with difficulty, to think of some semblance of wisdom to impart upon the coltine but his speech left her without. Can monsters change? Yes, she knew they could. Thanatos..., her mind sighed softly, a tender fondness tugging at the name that was burned within her memory. He had been a dark, evil creature, but he had changed upon meeting her. Or maybe it wasn't herself who had been the turning point, but instead the end to a long process. Either way, he had forsaken his alliances, and lost his life as a result. She couldn't bring it forth in her heart to forgive those that had passed the judgment, and she doubted she ever would. "Monsters never have to stay that way." Her voice was softer than it had been before, eyes trained on some distant point as she drew the dark stallion's face up in her mind. Traitor? Was that what they called him? How could one be a traitor for making a choice for themselves? She glanced quickly the the colt with concern in her eyes, wondering if he too could meet the same fate for following his own path. "Our paths are not set in stone, nor are they laid before we walk them." No, our paths, our labels, are what we leave behind, aren't they? She offered the child a smile to lighten her words, hoping that even her limited experience could provide the child some use.
@[Rayo]
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[O] Reasons Like Seasons, They Constantly Change
