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I simply can not sleep twenty-four hours a day, it is not socially acceptable.
It was what her drowsy, circling thoughts were throwing around as arguments. On and off: To nap, or not to nap. Because yes, that was the question – As it often was, but a question evermore hidden and pushed away once it appeared, for she could not be doing nothing. She still had not found her Purpose and she still had her duties to the Throat to fulfill. Even though she was not planning on returning anytime soon.
She did not know why she hadn't realized it, why it hadn't just randomly popped into her head when Gaucho had said to her that he was blowing up the land-bridge soon to protect the herd, but that he would be giving all non-pegasi a key: A key for them to be able to cross the sea through a magical bridge. No, she had not realized somehow – heavily pointing out that this happened even after she had made him realize she disliked, maybe even hated fire – that he would make a magical cable-line from wings... of (yes) fire.
She was afraid that only by meeting her Sultan she would know how pissed she actually was.
Somehow, though, the thought of a frenzy worked as a relaxing remedy and her heavy eyelids fell closed.
The wind howled louder and spat water through the entrance of the cave. Then also spat out something else. Something big and noisy. Something hooved. Maren's eyes jolted open as the shadow grew and moved and formed itself from a silhouette to a pegasus. He came in like he was the storm itself, wet and fanned and winged and... - And she somehow managed it in her sleepy state; she ducked for the wing that rushed over her head and that sliced the air above; where a second ago her neck had been. Instinctively she took a step back, after the stallion had finished entering, to make room for the huge wings. Her own feathers shied away, probably downhearted to see the purposeful, almighty, mature, dangerous wings the stranger carried. For he must be proud he could use what he was born with and his race was meant to do. As much as Maren's wings had these thoughts, she herself did not. For she knew the value they carried, no matter what others thought of them. She too, was proud.
The howling of the wind faded away once again and Maren had re-found her composure, as it was just a stranger also seeking shelter for the storm – Or that was what her half-paralyzed brain wanted to believe, at least.
Her eyes kept silent as they analyzed this visitor. Then she scraped her throat, just in case she did wanted to make a point about the little incident. But her peace-seeking-mind decided to revise the thoughts of doing so – And then there was also the fact that the tigermare had decided to try to be a little less... direct, for some disliked the boldness she herself was brought up in. There were ones who simply laughed it off, but others, somehow, saw it as an insult. As she was technically an immigrant, having been granted the care and warmth by the Throat's little community, she was grateful and saw it as nothing more than her obligation to adjust. Then again, some characteristics were hard to just kick-out, wave goodbye to, for they are not needed anymore. If that had been possible life had been to easy and to boring for anyone to survive a day.
She had first thought of him as a silhouet. Only now she decided that she had not gotten any closer to describing the stallion as the way she had that first time. A shadow he almost seemed with his dark coat, only to be lit up by the few white marks. Although she had been right about him being a pegasus, she could now see that he - crooked as it was, also bore a horn. His eyes, however, were everything but silhouettes, as they seemed like two little moons, no flecks of pupils to be seen. Could he look through them? He must, if he was able to find the entrance to this cave.
They were both staring, or glaring - or simply inspecting each other, which she was fine with. Although she only remembered when she was stared at, she knew she was beautiful. With her exotic, tiger-striped hide and the mark of royalty on her chest. She had nothing to be ashamed of, which included her wings. yes, they must both be at least a bit dazzled by each other's appearances. For if they hadn't, they might just had lost the ability to see the beauty in the little whispers the God's of the universe breathed down on the world.
Maren watched as the moon-eyed stallion smiled. Did she mind the company? She wasn't sure, for she didn't know who that company was yet, apart from that the one in question was handsome. "Of course not", she lied, the corners of her mouth mirroring the stallions weak smile.
“My name’s Mesec.”
She was about to ignore him by pretending to go back to her nap, but then his words reached her and she couldn't help her ears slowly falling back in the direction of the stallion. "Mesec?" Her lips and her outlandish accent formed his name, questioning. Then, suddenly having her interest fueled, her lips curled up in a broader, more welcoming smile and the gold in her eyes sparked alive. She stepped closer as the folded wings along her neck got up, swaying next to her ears. "You're in the Throat too, then." She tilted her head, raising one invisible eyebrow in a secretive way. "I've heard rumors about you.", she whispered to him sweetly, heavily in contrast with her tone earlier.
@[Mesec] || Notes: No.Room.Left.ARGH. || Wordcount: 983 || "talking" ||
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