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BY THE PRECEPTS OF HER PURITY
Having been a travelling soul, one would think she was quite perceptive when it came to being followed, just in case anyone planned to assassinate her, perhaps rape her. But as she had traveled, through all the paths she had taken, all the mountains she had crossed, she had let her faith be her guide; with her wings outstretched to the sky, she would believe to be protected as long as she was strong, vigil and most importantly; as long as she kept looking for her Holy Purpose, for utter enlightenment. And she had been strong, she had been cunning, protective to herself and any other mare she found in danger.
Now, years later, in the midst of the dusty desert of her home, she wasn't looking out for herself. Not really — Maybe even not at all. The diviner took anything that gave her safety for granted. She was a spoiled child, perhaps, but she liked it like this; fanning herself with her tired wings, no longer outstretched, just purposelessly waving against warm winds. She was just another lazy mare in a hot climate, perfectly ordinary and perfectly fine. A dancer in the dark, prey to the unknown. Which in this case was... Prey to the stalking eyes of a young colt.
Mr. Teatime was the one that was more interested in Maren's surroundings. He had seen that face reflecting in the oasis as Maren bathed in its waters, noticed his gaze from between the cracks of rocks she had just turned her long tail to, saw him from the shadows of the walls as she napped in front of the temple entrance, or when she prayed inside the Offering Chamber to the God of the Sun Mr.Teatime noticed him watching them from the Hall. He had tried to make his bonded see what he saw, yet she did not seem to want to hear it. Instead of ignorant Mr. Teatime had decided that he called that part of her carefree, though in reality it really was the first. So, since she didn't, he sometimes came purring to the young boy and sat beside him while he did what he did when the equine was somewhere close to Maren, liked to play with his long and pretty leonine tail.
The diviner turned around when hoof beats found her ears. "Mathèo." His name felt grown-up on her lips. She hadn't realized that the voices of young one's could sound as mature as his. Perhaps it was the light that surrounded him, the way he held his posture. "No, please do," she did not particularly care, though she hoped he hadn't heard much of how she had vocalized her chaotic state of mind. She preferred to be seen as capable, rather than pitiful.
“Nephele?” As the Pegasus had spiraled down too, she couldn’t help but feel like something about her had changed. Was it her appearance? Was it the way she walked? Had she changed something about her hair? There was simply something odd, yet still familiar about her. You have really lost your edge, Maren. It was Mr. Teatime who sighed inside her mind. Maren just frowned and replied with a 'Silence! I am simply too preoccupied to care about minor things like that' and a 'Don't you dare judge me', because she felt as if the chaos of the herd was pressing down on her figure like a hot iron, and because she felt in all honesty that her bonded one was the only creature capable of handling her disarray, anyway.
(Am I really losing it?)
It was the first time that the so called 'Guardians of the Throat' had proved interest in their religion. After Hector, now even Nephele — She could only hope that this was a good sign, a sign of a prosperity, a sign of a perhaps more stable future. Though she did not per se like them, they needed their warriors to understand their position, as well as the importance of their Faith within it. So she said “It’s fine,” to the mare and closed her eyes as if to pray to the Sun more, though in reality she could not find the motivation to say any more words than she had already preached. —Or it will all just turn to waste.
Sorry for the useless length >>
Let me know if you are don't approve of Mr.Teatime's perceptiveness ;P @Odd
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[O] The (pi)tea party [God of the Sun]
