She was like the moon

The scarred mare followed the Reaper, embracing the little amounts he spoke. It reminded her of when she first arrived, hardly speaking a word after going to long without even the idea of needing to say a word out loud. Her voice had been gruff, but it had been worked through as she found the means to speak more - but the silence between her and the Basin’s King was more comforting than it might have been for others. Others might have found it awkward, frustrating even at the idea that the man spoke little words. But Glasgow wasn’t like the others. She embraced not having to say a word at all, and instead peer around behind glassy orbs at whatever came her way.

When the Basin appeared, she took a quick glimpse around. The chill in the air embraced her, as it always had, finding a way into her old bones. And as she glanced around at the tall mountains that jutted from the earth and surrounded the North, she knew why others found it so appealing. It was beautiful here, but for her it was too open. She liked being hidden, a comfort for her to hide her scars and pretend as if nothing happened. She could only imagine how much she would’ve blended in here, becoming something and yet nothing all the same. The only difference would’ve been the random pieces of scarlet that lined the mare’s lips, eyes, and hooves. She could’ve been a walking ghost, if not for her job at the Edge. And now she was here - a place where Thranduil had asked her to come with him way back when and she denied; but understanding why in its entirety. It was beautiful, cold, and definitely a place that resembled somewhere from her travels. It had a hint of nostalgia hidden behind the peaks of the mountain tops. And part of that frightened her.

But instead, she nodded to the Reaper as he welcomed her. A small smile tugging on the corners of her lips but were quickly washed away as they continued to move on. When they came upon a piece of flattened soil, with rocks piled to the sides away from where Glasgow assumed her duties would be needed, she turned her scarred glassy gaze over to the dark ebony pillar of the Basin. “Yes. I should be fine. Maybe one of your healers could come and direct me where they’d like things to go? For now, I can start with a wall.” Her voice was gentle, completely missing the menacing tone others would have thought her to have.

She turned her sights to where the far back wall would go. This would be a bit more difficult, seeing as she didn’t have the mist already surrounding her like she did back home. Nevertheless, she enveloped the cold from both the Basin and her Goddess, putting it forth to create what appeared as a tangible ball of mist surrounding her. With that, she formed it into a clear liquid as it grew thicker and thicker to her will. She stepped closer to the edge, where she imagined the wall would go and began laying out the base of it - a simple line of glass she would build upon. Once she had gone the length of the stamped down soil, she began to overlap it, working it into a fairly thick pane of glass, growing taller and taller, while still malleable and easy to work with. Once she reached a height she felt was comfortable, she layered the glass once more, smoothing out any impurities within her work. She had worked with the glass jars and Mauja’s beads to create a more smooth surface, and she used that to her advantage here.

Once she was satisfied, she turned to Deimos with a small smile. “Will the other walls reach the edges of the plot of land, like this one?” She questioned, tilting her head slightly and swishing her tail as the magic began to fade slightly as she waited. It was easy to call upon, surprisingly for her. She kept a tight grip on it, but allowed it to fade now and then not to exhaust her further.

"Talk."

part of her—

was always hidden away.

Glasgow