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12-14-2013, 05:34 AM
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The orangemoon air was not as brisk as what she was accustomed to, being from the north as she was, but she was certain the that mountain brook bubbling up around her daughter's legs and onto her bodice was frigid at best. A small frown creased her brow as she took in the sight - not because the girl had chosen to take a splash in the creek, but because she knew that the action had to have a reason behind it. If Snö was frolicking in wintry waters, she was not doing so for pleasure - she was running from something. Something by which she did not want to be found. The maternal instinct was more than the shade was used to experiencing, and so the intensity with which it arrived took her very much aback. If truth be told, she was not protective because Snö was her daughter, but because Snö was hers and, much like her daughter, she did not appreciate when someone took it upon themselves to interest themselves in that which she had claimed as her own. Still, such concern may well have been out of her reach had Snö arrived a season sooner, and it was this bewilderment that clouded her mind just long enough for the returning princess to notice just what was missing. There was shock, but there was a similar concern as to what Psyche herself had just felt, too - Snö had, for the first time, called her 'mom.' Something about the sentiment brought the mare pleasure, and she was reminded once more how very different she was from the queen she had once been; she realized again that she wasn't sure she minded the change. To avoid this train of thought and the endless, obsessive circles that it would lead to, she turned her focus entirely to the younger fae. She was surprised by the poise that her usually hot-headed daughter showed, and curious as to what had brought about the change. "No trickery, darling," she admitted, her voice somewhat glum. "Shall we simply say that my latest challenge went a bit south?" There was no venom in her tones; in fact, she was downright cordial. If she were pressed she would tell the girl the story. Perhaps she would even find comfort in her offspring for once. But she would not offer without being asked. "And what about you, girl? Who's on your trail to have you traipsing through ice water?" [W/C | ---] |
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Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk." Think think think. |
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![[Image: psycheicon.png]](http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy285/schwartze_asylum/psycheicon.png)
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Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
