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F a e l e n e
i don't want to think about it
Jagged,yellow stripes demanded her sight, but she was looking at the taller pair of eyes. Hardly, she glimpsed when they seem to enlarge, widen, echoed by what she thought a distrustful snort. Own black ears pressed to her skull, because it made little sense to her. Was her name already soiled, or nothing now? The cords of muscles tightened through her neck, her chest, and hindquarters. She could taste the energy around her, slowly feel her mind knotting it together to use it to grip, or make an invisible force. It was instinctive to brace herself for anything or so she thought. The stallion before her shook like a leaf hanging on its frail nub of a twig. Own dark pupils likely dilated, her blood running a little quicker. It had been a long time since she had seen a stallion shake, and she had never expected especially the brindled Crowley to ever be in that position. Still, the fear that suddenly echoed from him made her suspicious. Silver eyes swept swiftly, reaching out across the ripping strands of shadow. There was nothing, no one. Was..was she truly seeing the weaver?
Hooves submerged in the cold earth, and the twist of his ears was slow to move to his, awful voice. "Nothing," she flatly replied, knowing there was a trace of confusion to her tone. The red locks of her tail twirled behind her while she tried to keep a scowl from ruining her smooth mask. Instead of making more sense, there was more jagged words that escaped him. What the hell happened? The Thief wanted to demand, wondering if this was simply a new characteristic from being a mother with a child close by and a terrified maniac in Crowley's suit.
The red maned took no more steps closer, further he scurried. Irritation made her ears tighten back, he was wary, and she was perhaps more so. The white of eyes was never a good sign, and she almost worried he would take off. The lady was not about to go on a wild goose chase, but was it safe to merely walk away? The tint in the air said wrong, wrong. While she tried best to say anything she came to a blank. What he had done, what made him want to hide in the night she had no idea of knowing. That voice, displaced in that form spoke again. Faelene scoffed. Did she look like the executioner? Deimos would be much better candidate for such things. So why would he think that? If Psyche wanted anyone's head, it was a lot more likely the odds were not in Faelene's favor.
"What have you done Crowley?" There was no accusation, but a small plea to her simple tone that meant she did not understand. Again the lines of yellow caught her eye, and she cast her gaze to the pup. He did not reflect the Unicorn, nor he seemed to want to attack her. He must know. Faelene held a heavy breath, tight in her chest as he came to her. Bright eyes, allured, anxious dark ears cupped to him when he made his gentle greeting. Poor boy could not tell her what had transpired with words, but when depths of yellow eyes met hers she was quite aware he was trying to tell her something. When they flicked upward, naturally hers followed to the moon of all things. The hound repeated the process, carefully staring at her once more.
"The Moon did this?" And her words were a hiss, spoken only for Talbot. Her voice startled her own ears. It made her realize she had put too much feeling into it. Frustration fell in a rough breath, and she shook her head. He must have done this for some reason, and she hoped it was a good one. "Well, what...what is he suppose to do? Live in fear till Birdsong?" Faelene mumbled, remembering Ari's mission. If he was this paranoid he was no use, and possibly an easy target. It would be best if he stayed here, but she had no plan of action. Or did she? "I only came to see if you needed help...you know with...weaving?"
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