Asch
In the quiet prior to the words that spill from Zikar-Sin's maw, Asch lifts gilded greens to survey those around her. It is not that she fears them in any way, but her entire world revolved round that well-being and success of her sister. She merely didn't know how to interact with those close to her in age group. Certainly she was one of the younger ones, at least. The Princes of the Basin are unknown to her, in fact they are all nameless faces to the young maiden, but when golden eyes settle upon her she manages a cordial smile. Surely she should attempt to make friends? No matter how composed and aristocratically she holds her body she is still but a child, and the whims of youth demand the attempt at friendship. The other colt is far less reserved in his greetings of the other foals, and she glances at him with wide startled eyes at his exuberance. A smile curls her lips and softens her gaze, touched to be
noticed at all. It is always Arwen who garners such attention, with her beautiful simplistically crafted looks, Asch the one most often overlooked with her quiet demeanor and frank attitude.
"Hello," she responded kindly, smile warm but a tad reserved, as if anticipating him to turn and forget about her in a moment. Her own attention is diverted by the arrival of her sister, who bounds into her like a boulder smashing into her side even without their hides ever touching.
"Here I am," she murmured uselessly, not sure what to say in return.
"Attempting to, though you know it is often others who do not wish to be my friend instead of the opposite," she laughed softly, even though the delight did not reach her eyes. Solitude was a shield worn strapped across her spine to ward off errant daggers, and while it shrouded her in loneliness it enabled her to be a more effective guardian of her twin sister.
She smiles at Zikar-Sin as he responds to her, and though she'd never met him prior to that moment, she finds him a rather...eccentric being. The filly who approaches seems not to like him, if the cold bratty expression on her features is anything to go by. Even so, Asch doesn't judge her for how she receives the Haruspex, why should she? She hated her own mother after all, she was certainly in no place to condemn others for their personal opinions of others. In time, introductions are in order, and Rikyn and Erebos are soon announced in voices accordingly soft and effervescent in turn. The youth with the wings does not share her name. Clearing her throat softly she prepared for the attention speaking to the group would bring, and shut away whatever nervousness lingered behind locked doors so none would detect such an affliction.
"My name is Asch." Often Arwen introduced her, for Asch's name always followed Arwen's personal salutation and introduction. It was odd to do it for herself.
Ash. Ash like dead things, like fire, like destruction. Ash like smeared cheeks and marked bodies. Ash like acridness, like sour, like foul. Ash like unwanted.
Internally snorting she kicked such useless demeaning thoughts away. Why the fuck was she being such a self-degrading whimp? Focusing on the question the Haruspex posed to the lot of them, she stared inquisitively at the two objects as if they would reveal to her their secrets.
"Life? The skull was once living, and the flowers are surely still alive despite their impending death. The different stages of life?" she ventured. The pale child with the sharp tongue made her chuckle to herself, only quieting when she realized she likely should not be laughing. Still, she was amusing in her crassness, and Asch found that intriguing.
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Ahhh I didn't realize it was my turn everyone can hit me with a ham!
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