The Gods perhaps are worth more, but still, did they deserve her undying respect? No, she did not think so. What had the God of the Earth ever done for her? Or any of the Gods, for that matter? Stripped her power when she came here, and gave her so little in return. She would earn back everything she could, certainly, but to be stripped of everything she’d been born with was a cruel, cruel trick.
Best not to rely on anyone but yourself. And never trust the stranger with candy.
Syrena, having no real purpose in this herd and still unwilling to commit herself completely to a caste, has been mostly staying in the pools. But today, she decides she might as well do something of use, and so she wanders the border, wondering who else actually still lived here. Not that she took the time to learn who lived here in the brief moments she called this place home, but she could pretend that she had some clue.
A mare with wings behind her head catches the gray mare’s eye, and she turns her course. Not that she can do a damn thing here, really, but she goes anyway. Boredem drives her more than anything (certainly more than concern for the scrawny, beat looking mare on the border). “Can I help you?” she asks, little concern in her voice but a slight tinge of it in there. She’s trying. Granted, again, there’s nothing Syrena can do. She doesn’t even know who the healers are around this place. But you know, she’ll just keep on pretending.
"words"
darya87 | larfsalot
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