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BY THE PRECEPTS OF HER PURITY
Having taken back his lips, she watched the stallion wade deeper into the darkness of the pool. The tiger mare could still feel the restless warmth left by their momentary closeness; Cutting into her skin like glassy shards when the wind touched her bare hide. His question was a strange one and to be truthful she did not see a reason to answer. More and more she began to realize that he might not be of sound mind, and all players knew it wasn't a riddle anymore if, no matter how hard you tried, there was no answer to be found. Like a maze without an ending; rather unnecessary. Much like bafoons.
She felt a sting in her chest when he called out her indifference. But she listened to his words, despite the shadows that enveloped him. It was almost as if he seemed expectant of her to play along with his charades. As if he was used to being trailed by ground kissing peasants and played along with, like a spoiled child.
"No, Toulouse; you seem to know as little about me as I know about you. But since you think to know me, I'll let you know what I've learned about you so far, too." Her expression was hooded by a frown. The water around her legs had turned smooth, reflecting the stillness of her upside-down frame almost perfectly. Only the frailest feathers and loneliest strands of her her mane shivered with the air. "You are as see through as the wet silk scarf around your neck, drenched from the salty seawater of an ocean never crossed successfully by merely swimming - Something the so called bafoon-merchant would've known. Just like he would've noticed the slight adjustment to our... island, had he truly been there years prior."
There were only words from her lips, the smile had gone; her expression was one of silence, but in her golden eyes there was a shimmer of violet thunder instead, perhaps channeling her inner Ampere, but without the stench of drunkenness – or maybe a little, that was debatable, depending on how alcoholic exactly those apples had been. "Anyone from the Dragon's Throat would've been able to realize that." It wouldn't have just been me. "Or if you thought I would willingly let myself be blinded by the fancy silk you were supposedly selling..." She smiled, but only for a brief moment. "I don't roll that way." She'd much rather push down, than being pushed down, and she found herself thinking of Ampere (again). "And, let's be honest, I don't have any sense of fashion. Not for crown jewels or silk scarves. Thankfully, the Gods don't care either."
– And she thought about her mother. And the hate she felt surged at that moment; bubbled in her veins like a poorly prepared potion. The Crownless stepped out of the cocoon of calm water she had created around her, bearing ripples as she wandered two steps deeper into the pond, deeper into the shadows. But she took her halo with her, enlightening her catlike frame, resembling the sway of her companion.
"You are still under the impression that you deceived me", she concluded, feeling the awareness of Mr. Teatime push against her thoughts now that she finally let him in again as her emotions troubled their bond. The tiger mare's steps halted just before knee depth, her focus unchanged on Toulouse. "However," and the outlandish purr in her voice sunk down to a hushed growl. "I may not care about many things, but I do care about the safety of my herd."
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