.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
06-15-2015, 04:10 AM
Gull As you finish speaking, the mare moves closer. Comfortable laughter pours forth as she reassures you that it’s fine, an easy mistake—her name is Parelia. At your inquiry, however, she quiets and tells you somberly, “You really should be careful up there. I was jumped by one of those basin people not long after I arrived here.” Your ears rivet sideways in confusion. “Basin people?” you repeat as she shows you the gleaming hardware on her wings. “I hope the bastard who did it paid ten times over,” you mutter, stepping closer to inspect the turquoise bands. She has yet to confirm your suspicions, but naturally, you assume that it was a unicorn—isn’t it always? You are angered by the attack, but not surprised in the least. Parelia is silent for a moment as you stew, then seems to remember herself and answers the rest of your question. Another twinge of guilt shoots through your heart at her mention of the source of her troubles: her son has abandoned the herd. But you hadn’t abandoned yours while your mother was there, you remind yourself, shrugging off the weight of the burden as you have done thousands of times since your departure. This was different. Still, you feel for the girl. “I’m sorry,” you murmur in a rare display of sincerity. Your sympathy is masked by another round of coughing though, and you notice with faint dismay that the sound seems to be growing continually worse. Perhaps Parelia hears it as well, for she pipes up, "We have healers in my heard if you need someone to look at you. I promise you will be a welcomed guest." Through the heaving coughs, you manage to shake your head noncommittally. It is a generous offer, but you cannot allow yourself to become sidetracked from the task at hand. Every day you waste is another day Muriel’s killer has to move farther out of your reach, and you know that even these pleasantries must come to a close soon. Still, you don’t wish to offend her, so you neither accept nor decline the invitation. She’s smiling up at you from under that milky forelock, and you’d rather like to keep it that way. And something within you stirs. “I think I’ve already found someone to look at me,” you quip, smirking a little at her. You do your best to catch her in your eye and hold her in your gaze. Maybe it’s wrong, and maybe this isn’t the time, but slipping back into your old shell is slipping into a time when life was less complicated. And today, you desperately want to go back. @[Parelia] trouble just grew wings |
Please do not tag Gull except for in opening posts or spars!
