Själ

Hers was an empty threat, but it was a threat nonetheless. In every tense line of her body, in every angry crease of her face, there was a just-contained fury that appeared in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. Never mind that the girl had no fighting experience - she was ready to battle in all but knowledge, prepared to offer herself for Nymeria's safety. If she had truly known her mother, she might have been able to recognize how very similar she looked to Psyche just then; there was a calculated psychosis that had appeared in her amber eyes, a hunger reminiscent of bloodlust. The DarkEmpress had been an excellent fighter, (though she had greatly preferred crafty manipulation) and despite her inexperience, it was obvious that the girl had inherited her mother's instincts.

The moment stretched, tense and still. Overhead, there was silence where there was once birdsong and squirrel chatter. Even the animals surrounding the trio had gone to ground, afraid of whatever was to come.

The stallion spoke, and his genuine confusion and sorrow took the princess aback, almost smoothing her raised hackles and settling her into a glaring statue. It was not, however, until she heard the wolf-mare's soft no that the princess pressed her lips together, lifted her head, and stepped back to Nymeria's side, casting a concerned, sidelong glance at her friend. As the other mare offered words of apology, Själ noted the way the wolf-mare's mask slid into place, a practiced facade that the princess recognized well. It was her own defense mechanism as well, and her experience with it made it easy to recognize upon another - especially one whose face she had memorized, even in the few times they had been in one another's company.

Själ's mouth twisted into a frown as Nymeria finished speaking, reaching out (her heart on her sleeve) to gently touch the mare's shoulder in support. After a moment, she withdrew, blinking as her own mask clicked into place. "My apologies," she told the stranger, her voice a gentle purr that was quite different from the banshee's shriek she had released only moments before. "I was told no more than that, and given my friend's reaction to you -" (she did not say Nymeria's name, for that was not hers to reveal) "- you understand my... concern." She leaned her hindquarters surreptitiously to the right, hoping to offer her touch to Nymeria.

She smiled then, slipping easily into her new role - to protect Nymeria, to offer her a shield to hide behind, Själ would take attention as she was able, would redirect the stallion's queries. "I imagine introductions are in order," she suggested, unaware of how like her mother she was beginning to think and sound. Perhaps her intentions were different, purer, than those of the DarkEmpress, but her methods? Well... let us just say that the dark princess was just as comfortable in the shadows as her late mother. "I am Valyrica."

The lie came unbidden to her tongue, floating easily into the spring air. Even if this stallion was not the stallion, he was still a stranger, and he was still male. How were they to know that his sincerity was not an act to lull them into complacency? How were they to know if he was any better than Nymeria's attacker? The princess did not offer a name for Nymeria, but she hoped that the wolf-mare would follow her lead and allow Själ her suspicions. "Again, I apologize for my assumptions. Do forgive me, won't you?" A smile, a flutter of lashes. Still she offered her flank and her strength for Nymeria, never moving from her proffered position of support.

"Talk."
--Ansgar.--

@ Mesec