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The mare's ear flicks back in acknowledgement, and the tension that had unknowingly coiled through Nymeria's sinews dissipated. She was faintly disappointed her presence had not been more surreptitious, but she was hardly surprised that her cover had been so quickly pulled away.
Now she sized up the stranger; their builds were distant relations, and their coats cousins. Nymeria was more curvaceous, robust, but the other mare was broad-barrelled and strong-legged, with a faint grace that belied some warmblood influence. She was feathered, albeit heavier than Nym, and her coat sleek and dark, with a pattern of silver flakes drifting down from over her spine. White socks, white horns, white face—but perhaps most unusually amber eyes. Amber, Nymeria thought, faintly incredulous; but nobody has amber eyes except for Confutatis. (Not that she was aware of, at least.)
Then she no longer had time to nitpick the stranger's details, as she was drawing up level to Själ's head.
(She couldn't be related to Confutatis, though, could she? It seems—it seems unlikely. But she does share a resemblence to my mother, even if...) Perhaps if Själ was a foal she could've been Volterra's (it would hardly surprise her now) but she was far too old for that.
The clouds were dark and heavy, low over the horizon. It did not feel as if it would take much effort to reach them. (Is this how pegasi feel? Forever thinking about the sky?) It would be strange to have wings—stranger still to be among those lush, dark clouds, with the wind combing through her mane... Nymeria shook her head to shake away the thoughts.
Always, the stranger murmured, and white vapor drifted from her mouth, curling up and away. Always—always resonated with Nym.
“I'm sorry,” she said. "Nobody deserves to be alone."
@Själ
OOC: This is terrible. I'm terrible. I was so distracted writing this and I apologize profusely for the consequences of that.
Yes I lied, don't think about you all the time
All my switchblade words ain't aim to cut your sweet delusions
