Яikyn

It never ceases to amaze me how very pretty unicorn women are.

This one is a creature in the fullest blooms of her life, wreathed in amethyst touches and marked with what appears to be a crescent moon as I glance her way, sipping upon her grace; it would be rude to look fully upon her, as this is apparently a meeting of some sort and my attentions should be on the Haruspex, the not the ebony eloquence of a female who is probably well out of my age range.

But Ashamin wasn’t as fair a sight, was he? Especially when seeing him made me think of our spar, and the argument that had inspired it, and while it wasn’t his fault he felt the way he did, I couldn’t help but wonder just how much had changed in my mother’s absence. Why had Aithniel ever left if they were all soft hearted, mutant lovers like the bold but inept priest?

The last to join the circle is around the same age as the first female to distract me, but this one is not so much the lure of prettiness (not to say she isn’t – she is), but that I think I know her. This time I find that I am not so capable of holding my eyes on the holy man along the shore line, my gaze lingering for a while on the ebony mynx as she lets her own do the same to me. She’d had a filly last time, hadn’t she?

Torn from my thoughts by the voice of the amethyst beauty, and feeling a thrill rise through me (wondering what she had called the hybrid, having vaguely caught that she had noted him but unable to recall the syllables from my memory) that she had given me specific attention. Sure, its probably just typical female nosiness, but the off chance that it isn’t is exciting; turning my features towards her with a friendly smile I nod in greeting, preparing my throat to produce words...

And then Ashamin starts talking.

I look at him with a glare, my smile immediately vanished.

Well just tell her for me, why don’t you? I waspishly think to myself, but I do catch the hybrid’s name this time as the Haruspex looks to us all in turn, the name of the blue and black lady striking such recognition in me that I am almost ashamed to have forgotten it, and the violet dame’s name placed alongside all the rest. He continues to explain why we’re all here, and with a lightening of my features, I brighten towards having been interrupted.

The last I had been here, the General had been my uncle, Torleik, but my father had told me something about him having gone somewhere (I admit I may have not been listening as well as I could have, so sue me), and I remember Erebos saying something about the blood bay with the white markings having inherited the position. While I admit it makes me a little sad to know it will not be my family guiding the lesson, I am interested in getting to be around the man who, more often than not, mocked my Lady mother rather than revered her as most; I’d found him hilarious in my youth and wonder if he, too, will be less than I remember him as most things in this land.

[ OOC: If anyone wants to spar when this starts rolling, I’m totally open for it! Just shoot me a message. ]

in every heart a hole