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Sunday chuckled nervously, when she realized that the mare that stood before her was not used to being stared at. Oops. She couldn’t help it though. Irrydae’s smile is replaced by a look of something like nostalgia, almost. Sunday didn’t understand why, at first, but as Irrydae went on, it clicked. She missed her own magic. Sunday began to process all of what was given to her, that there were, infact, gods and magic. Sunday heard of these kinds of things in her travels, but she always dismissed them as tall tales. As Sunday listened to Irrydae’s next words, she couldn’t help but smile a little. Ah. Another mercenary band. Sunday had her fair share of these groups, as she encountered many in her travels and in her past. Her own brother was in one of these. They were familiar to her. Sunday didn’t like to fight, but that didn’t mean that she was weak. She nodded in agreement to Irrydae’s statement. “An Intelligence rank, or one of those cover-up ranks will do just fine,” She said.
“I do know how to fight, but I just prefer not to. Does that make sense?” Sunday replied.
“I’ve dealt with bands like this before, they’re not too pleasant. Only a few have manners,”Sunday explained, frowning a little.
The mare didn’t wish to explain how, or in which part of her life, did she dead with these hooligans. It would just bring up the dark memories again. She had tried so hard to forget them, and push the nightmares away. They haunted her for two and a half years. She often rolled around in her sleep, her hooves flailing as she tried to run, only to stay in place. It didn’t help that she still remembered her dreams vividly when she woke up. Thankfully, the night terrors disappeared half a year ago, and her sleep was peaceful, as well as her day. She had gotten so used to those nightmares that, when she first slept, and they didn’t come to her, it felt strange. Sort of like the calm before the storm. Now, Sunday wanted to shove all that crap behind her and start again.
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it's your world, i'm just trying to live in it .
