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01-15-2015, 08:20 PM
Kestrel when all other lights go out Something in Kestrel’s speech unnerves her new acquaintance; the shiver running under heavy flesh draws attention despite its subtlety. Perhaps the Kestrel of even a few months previous would disregard such a minor reaction, but the Kestrel of today takes note, pauses for the barest instant to watch. Not of a hint of violence leaps at her, though, and she tucks the occurrence away in memory, curiosity prickling at her thoughts but firmly caged. Not now. She is wise enough to hold back the more incisive questions. Her journey has not brought her to make friends, though she appreciates the company. Soon enough, her attention clamps its jaws around new facts: Murdock, a protector of the Edge. The World’s Edge – how great and unlikely a name. It commands yet more curiosity, and Kestrel is silent as Fig explains. This mare.... this tree-mare is either ignorant or living in a herd with so little need for military as to lack basic structure. Kestrel meditates on this, suspecting the former. How could such a heavy creature fight, after all? Trees are not made for battle, but for endurance, waiting and weathering. Kestrel has never thought of them as entities before. She feels oddly exposed now in the forest, and wonders if her previous treatment of plants was ever disrespectful. Perhaps she ought to be more careful. Though somewhat distracted, she nods at last in answer to Fig’s invitation. It is a start; perhaps it will lead to nothing, but it is a start. “I am honored to accept the invitation,” stated bluntly in that deep voice but softened by Kestrel’s expression as she nods, her dark eyes eager. There will be much to see and to learn, she expects. Perhaps there will even be answers to the questions she keeps. Excitement burns in her like a wild flame, but her ears twitch back to Fig when the other is speaking again. Kestrel hears most of it alongside the churn of her own thoughts, and some of her curiosity about the tree mare is answered, as well. So, she is foreign, as Kestrel is – or was, perhaps. “I’m glad to hear this,” the warrior responds. Her voice is a little warmer now than it was before. The joy, the lightness, in her new friend is infectious as well as charming. “I look forward to seeing this Edge of the world with my own eyes.” |
@[Fig]
