About what?
Everything
—she could have whispered back.
Why hadn’t she?
For she was a child (how many months?), inexperienced; brave, but still too much focused on the challenge born along with her that what was called youth. And she? She was a grown-up. Nothing more, nothing less. A sometimes either boring or bored priestess-lady who thought too much about too many things. And however much she was -not- forcing any of her opinions on others, she was also not not guilty of doing just that. So here I am once again, she thought with her blameworthy eyes on the filly. Once again, I seem to be attempting to strip a youth of its challenged fierceness, making them grow old too soon. A rootless smile slowly fell on her lips either way, for she couldn’t help but still enjoy herself along the way.
But she also smiled because it was pretty unmistakable that the young filly was chewing on these questions. Even through her tired eyes, it was an amusing sight that she would perhaps remember later that day. Perhaps smile for the memory one time more.
The filly pulled up her hoof to scratch her itch and finally asked what a concept was.
“A concept is an idea, a rough sketch of something yet to be perfected,” Maren answered the unknowing with knowledge. “A good concept should be vague and hard to understand, because that way our minds tend to try a little harder; be more thorough when we try to figure out its meaning.” Marens eyes wandered off to the distance as if falling back in though, golden eyes rolling to where Shadow had gone off. “Ah, but I just remembered that there are also really simple concepts that can be just as interesting.” She smiled and watched how the girl came to sit beside her. It felt cozy, like this, in the embrace of the greeneries, slightly hidden behind the veils of thin layers of mist. She hoped the filly would remember it as nice too, and informative, because whatever fun challenge the concept of youth was to her, it would not last forever. In fact, with her actions of entering the fights with the Gods she had perhaps already lost some of that immature ignorance already —somewhere she hoped so, as well.
She listened to the girls’ words. As much as the child could perhaps not understand the difficult words of an adult, it was for some reason also hard for her to get a grasp on the meaning of the sentences of the youth. Have I even ever been good with kids? No, she didn’t mind them growing up. Children pulled too much on her paranoia and made her skin crawl and itch. Just like these boils. So she didn't know why with her her speach was so mild —or perhaps this little girl just knew a way to tame that part of her.
Whatever the reason, through these tired golden eyes, aching muscles and numbed limbs she didn’t feel the frustration she normally would have surely felt.
“Yes, it is important to see the differences between us and Them. We are different, after all, for a reason,” she ended her sentence yawning, eyes blinking.
“It’s nice to meet you Ërthe, daughter of Shadow.”
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