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Defiance lingered, bloomed and danced within the eyes of mere youth. Essetia fought hard to contain the bitter words hanging upon her lips and instead turned them inward in hopes of salvaging the fragile bulb yet hidden beneath the ice and snow. The colt was clearly beyond reproach, at least in his own opinion, but that did not stop the big mare from jest, from biting words concealing insult with affection. “Then honor her now so that I might deem her attempts worthwhile,” Essetia smirked.
But the mare found only more resistance in return. The colt did possess an uncanny ability to exasperate her... She tossed her head back on a heavy sigh before fixing cold, pale eyes upon the child. Her companion had yet to settle and his rumbling only served to whittle away at Essetia’s nerves. Romul, she soothed. The predator huffed in response but complied with Essetia’s desire to see him quiet. However, he did not relax. Instead, he became a silent, brooding force that burned the bridge of friendship between mare and colt before it could be born. His emotions were unmistakable and Essetia could not deny them as they filtered through her honest spirit and valiant intentions. But she did try to thwart him for a time.
A ruthless chill stirred from within to mimic the icy walls surrounding the three and the mare nodded loosely to the colt, now Ignatius. “I’m Essetia and this is Romul,” she murmured absently. With anger and flames subdued, the mare was now able to consider the peculiar situation she’d managed to embrace. But the wolf made things harder for his companion by alluding to other heinous ideas more fitting of his predatory nature. Essetia’s thoughts were soon tainted by visions of blood and gore communicated quite vividly through her shared bond with Romul. She did try to fight them again… but to no avail. Demon no good, Romul seethed.
The mare tried to refrain from acknowledging similar sentiments but there was certainly something enigmatic about Ignatius. She imagined he would grow to be a very noble creature should he renounce such obstinate tendencies. However, Essetia couldn’t help but feel cynical toward the matter; she couldn’t believe that a youth lacking guidance and proper discipline could ever flourish or live up to her misguided expectations.
She wasn’t sure from where her concern for Ignatius had originated, but it flowered nonetheless. Perhaps her own past grievances had spurred her to care or maybe her deficient childhood had ruptured her good sense. Whatever the case, it was there. It remained a force still so young and new that Essetia could temper it easily beneath reason’s heel, but she became quite flustered by its appearance at all. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to… being tricked,” Essetia grit through her teeth. “What are you doing here anyways?” | |
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