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Fragments of time come together, fastening and clicking simultaneously before falling apart again. Essetia fumbles with the moments, searching for an appropriate marker in which to properly insert herself, but everything is still uncertain. As if in slow motion, the reeling of action begins to flutter back to life as it paints the scene before her in vivid color. Gradually, the mare watches as a pair of cerulean eyes find her waiting at the threshold of the cathedral and in that moment she is content to stare back with reckless abandon. The young stallion appears just as nervous as she and though she is aware that she presents no threat there is still an unsettling sense of guilt at having startled him.
With a slow smile guiding her lips away from the grim line of doubt that formerly kept expression from her soft face, Essetia tried feebly to comfort the pale boy. He appeared too fragile under the lethargic, colored light as it danced along his trembling skin painting his hide in pastel reds, greens, and blues. They made the entire room appear surreal as if it were ripped straight from some faraway fairytale land even if they were not as fantastic as Essetia had previously imagined. Stepping forward casually, the girl attempted to settle herself inside the monument and away from the blustery cold of the Rotunda but in doing so she managed to stumble over Romul (of who she had forgotten about until that moment). He had come to her aid as expected, but he did little to remedy the tension between she and the stallion. In fact his presence only served to upset their pale companion even further. Look what you’ve done Rome…
The wolf peered up at his beloved with mischievous eyes but evaded her chastising under the guise of feigned interest in the stallion as he separated the silence with sound. “Good morning to you too.” Her quiet words are meant as an apology for Romul’s ill manners but as they fade back into the stillness, she is again uncertain how to suppress the awful guilt building in her heart.
However, like the child she still feels to be at heart, Essetia’s worries are dashed in the wake of subtle conversation- even if what the boy says makes her want to laugh out loud. She had never assumed that anyone would want to take up residence out in the midst of the Rotunda, let alone in the chilled monument with the mysterious glass ceiling perched overhead. The majestic secrets of such a place were meant to be observed, not tamed. “ Thank you dreamer. The cold season has never suited me. ” Cautiously, the mare shuffled inside- this time with more grace than before to make up for her first failed attempt.
The cramped space does little to accommodate her though with the stallion still fixed at its center. For a moment she is puzzled as to why he would refuse to allow her to situate herself more easily within the confines, but she and Romul manage to relax to his right. Caneo? Rude. The canine responds in kind to the stallion’s introduction and though Essetia cannot fight the smile away from her indulgent lips, she nods absently at the boy. “It’s nice to know you Caneo; such a fitting name for you, though I preferred dreamer myself. ” As her chords taper away into the heaviness of the atmosphere, the mare smiles kindly- though at no one in particular for she is momently distracted by the clatter of hooves moving into the monument behind her.
Quickly, Romul shifts to stand rigid before her as if Essetia is unable to protect herself from a slight mare the color of seashells before they are corroded by ocean water. There is nowhere for her to go to invite the other girl more comfortably into the cathedral so she allows Caneo to figure how one might fit the desert stranger into their company. However, to her surprise, the other mare moves to the outer wall and away from Essetia and the boy- perhaps she is nervous? With wide eyes, the badger-faced mare debated the various ways in which they might all come together peacefully before losing her train of thought in favor of learning the desert phantom’s name. But the phantom does not say much else, which leaves Essetia dangling precariously between a rock and a hard place. She is unsure if their phantom girl desires company or has simply come seeking the colored glass as Essetia had… Either way, Caneo does not appear so concerned as he moves in to her shoulder. “Hello Drom. ”
Since Essetia held no prejudices for anyone, she did not object to allowing the pale boy nearer despite Romul’s hissing protest in her mind. Irritated, the mare chirps quietly at the canine, assuring him that warmth is a rare commodity in such frigid weather… she would not be the bearer of bad news nor would she exempt someone from her good graces for acting on instinct. Her longing for friendship was strong enough that she would ignore social norms in order to help Caneo from the wintry gales (and thus help herself).
“A lord you say? What was a lord doing here of all places? ” Her interest, though piqued, is skewed. The mare is torn between her dreamer and the phantom, still uncertain as to their motives even if Caneo is much more receptive to her advances and she, his. Those piercing blues eyes look to her so expectedly that she fears she will disappoint him upon revealing her plight to witness the colored glass lights, but with little else to go on she adds slowly and with much fervor, “I was hoping to see the lights…” With a jerk of her head, the mare gestured toward the ceiling before bringing her solemn eyes back to Caneo. “They were not as I’d imagined; a real shame really. ” The day was growing on and the cold was still fierce, but for once Essetia felt that she had met a real friend in the dreamer. But the lingering question still remained: Was the phantom as true as he? | |
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