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10-18-2016, 02:36 PM
n o e
Ice coats the clearing, pristine and clean, a collection of crystals thrown off by starfire and the wraith’s descent. Slowly Noe takes stock of this, among other things; steadily her world expands beyond the point of her nose, beyond the trail of her past, beyond the distant stars, and into the greater reality of now. She nods, again, at Erthë’s chatter - yes, I’m fine - but her eyes are roaming past the pale mare and into the clearing, into Helovia. There is hunger in her face as she takes it all in, a newly inflamed interest in the world brought on by the mercy of her Gods. One dark ear stays trained on Erthë; the crowned head comes back at the suggestion of teaching, and for the first time Noe frowns. "I am not yet a Master," the rain girl answers, a hollow note of sadness ringing like oboes in the rich timbre of her voice. Nor shall I ever be, now. "I do not know how to teach."
This thought saddens her. Her Masters are gone; her home is gone; who will train her now, to be the Voice of Sky and Stars? How will she learn the hymnals, the chants, the sacred melodies that please her Gods? What is her purpose- what is she but a remnant, a priestess without a cause? The stranger continues her barrage of endless comments and questions, and Noe smiles pleasantly, her expression a mask of quiet acceptance to strangle the sorrow that beats in her heart. Erthë is kind, and generous, but strange; and for a mare taught reservation above all else, silent pleasantries are the go-to response. Still, there is no denying the attractiveness of an offer of a place to stay, and Noe can feel a dismal exhaustion settles into her bones. In the midst of all the excitement she forgot her weariness; how nice, to rest for more than an hour or two! The wraith calls her home a World’s Edge, and explains that its patron is none other than the Moon.
Noe perks up at this piece of information- she is about to ask more, to ask if perhaps Erthë has heard of the Gods of Sky and Stars, when another stranger enters the scene. The rain girl spins to face the sound, her brown eyes wide with a sudden fear, tension once more knotting its way into her musculature. It fades quickly: she does not recognize the tree-marked stranger, so the threat he poses quickly wanes, and Noe’s face transforms back into its pleasant mask, her lips pulling into an uneasy smile. The antlered man seems to know Erthë, and while the rain girl may wonder how, she nonetheless holds her tongue, allowing this reunion to progress uninterrupted. Indeed, she watches carefully, trying to gather how such things are done here. There is no blessing bestowed, it seems, no exchange of breath- Noe takes this in through cautious honey eyes, watching as the stallion then changes courses, approaching her. Before the paint can react a cloak is thrown across her withers: "Thank you," she responds automatically, her masked face dipping in gratitude. She is cold without the blanket of her rain, and tired. The prospect of somewhere safe to sleep appeals greatly to the Voice of Sky and Stars, and though she is loath to indebt herself she turns to Erthë once more, a mild smile heralding her incoming assent. "Your Edge of the World sounds inviting, Erthë. Perhaps there we might find shelter from the chill?"
Her smile brightens, and she shivers despite the borrowed cloak. She would love to surround herself with rain and disappear, but such an option is not available in the presence of infidels; her voice belongs to her Gods, not strangers, and so she holds it in as much as she can, despite the comfort her singing brings.
