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what if it's two lines?

An optimistic idealist versus a pessimistic realist. The stallion spoke with hopeful ignorance that was based strictly on what he wished to belief. In stark contrast the mare's words were grim and weighed heavy in the air as she drew upon influences from her past. In the end only one could be right. Would idealism hold tight to that in which it believed or would it be overwhelmed by the harsh realism of every day life? Only time would tell. Whether she had been brought here for a reason or a mere mistake would reveal with time. Either the Gods had something planned for them, some reason for granting them entrance, or they were simply in the right place at the right time. Or perhaps the wrong place at the wrong time. Who knew?

Like a gargoyle when the sun rose her face turned to stone. Emotions were washed away in her grey details as she lifted her head ever so slightly so that she could look at the stallion; truly look at him. His handsome mug showed no sign of threat. Instead what she saw was patience in the man. His unusual silver eyes glinted with an enlightened form of wisdom. An air of nobility surrounded him but by no mean was it prominent nor in your face. Rather it was subtle and humble. Many probably referred to him as a gentleman. He certainly walked like one and talked like one yet Evaneska was not convinced.

Life was a masquerade where some wore more convincing masks than others. Some looked seamless, as if there truly was no mask that hide the wearer's true face. Evaneska knew better. In this wicked, sometimes cruel, dance facades were as natural as their steps. She truthfully believed that everyone hid something. No one ever wanted to show their true faces, no one wanted to leave themselves so vulnerable. Exposed and naked with the fragility of a newborn babe. No. Not many were willing to reveal themselves in such a state. So they kept their natures masked as they danced their dance.

In her homeland not many opened their arms with warm intentions. To offer her shelter was one thing but an actual place to live for - potentially - ever. What's your motive? she wondered, her gaze steady. What's the catch? Speaking these questions allowed would be foolish. Anyone would deny that it was anything harm. Instead they would offer it as an innocent request. She kept her mouth shut and her tongue stilled. Asking a question with an already assumed answer would be silly.

Her ears swiveled as she intently listened to the man talk. He painted a picture of Eden with his smooth words. She almost scoffed as he mentioned his leader's but she managed to stop herself. That would not be a wise move. She was a fool but not to that extent. His biased opinion was something Evaneska rolled around in her head. "How is it that you know this Falls is the best? Have you been a member of each of these herds?" Her voice was oddly serious as if she did not realize he was speaking with clear favoritism. "Tell me why I should believe the words rolling off your tongue." Evaneska cast a sideways glance at Destrier.

"You hardly know anything about me yet you offer me a home," her words were slow yet held a steady cadence. "I have only just arrived in these lands. I do not know who to trust or where I even belong. This is far too overwhelming, Ciceron." Being dragged to another dimension and reunited with someone she thought to be dead was not easy for the mind to grasp. "Time. I need time before I can answer such an offer." This was all too much to process. In this world of strangers who was she to trust? She recalled the wild god who promised her a safe haven but had, in reality, trapped in a cage. How was she to know this would not end the same?


@Ciceron