Yet, that unusual smile around her lips was not insincere. Perhaps, if she would have ever admitted it to herself, she was even enjoying this; embraced by nothing but learning, the crashing of interests and a well-informed set of ears to fill up with words of teaching... It felt safe and home-y. As if this was how it was supposed to be. "Very much so; he is a demi-god," she confirmed as she smiled at the intelligence of the girl. "One of the four, to be exact." Of those Mesec was the only one she had really come to know even though she had met all of them, if only briefly. There was, however, something in the air that made her wonder what exactly the mare was interested in, for was it really her herd-mate or was this aim of tone perhaps the infamous Mother Moon?
It did not matter, though. It was none of her business who wished to serve the Moon and, unlike others, she would not care if she did. Perhaps she did need to tell her that the reputation of the Goddess of the moon had been more than slightly scratched the past years. Inside her mind Maren sighed out of sympathy… or pity. Since these days — even though this too had been different in the past — it was much easier to walk in the brightness of the Sun than to be creeping quietly inside the shadows of the Moon. Nevertheless, it would not make her respect this girl less (or more), would merely prove a nice challenge.
...But then things changed; turned (suddenly), shimmered for just a mere moment inside her golden eyes, like a coin which flipped to its other side after having carelessly been thrown up in the air. It made her give up on her smile. The diviner's stark gaze was left hanging on the same spot, was left hanging as the mare let out more words — but the only thing Maren cared about now, was none of whatever followed. Everything was about that... “Disease-ridden”. It wasn’t even a puzzle anymore it was so obvious and she hadn’t known. She hadn’t known at all. Not at all. Not until it was too late. And now as a consequence she had awakened in midst of a storm, shivering and confused. It flowed like a poison through her throat. It was disgusting and she had let it in.
She is from the Rift.
A tainted fuel shimmering in her veins like oil on the ground and, as it was, she felt dirty. Enflamed by the easy words of admittance from someone she had somehow so quickly let herself connect with. And she must have as well, for why else would the girl say it in the first place? Betrayal. Hurt. What was forgiveness? What was mercy in these circumstances? Once again it proved how painless things could be broken down. This. It’s really true that I don’t care. It was almost... funny. She wanted to tell her how idiotic this pursue for her acceptance had been. Because that must have been how it was, right?
The rose under the ancient Oak wept a lonely droplet of onyx. The liquid shimmered as in it reflected the Medium’s sacred endlessness, reflecting the tranquility of being nowhere and everywhere at the same time. However, in the droplet was none: It fell to the ground, shattered before being swallowed by the never ending silence of all that lay in between.
The words the Riftian spoke were like the hands on a clock; going, going; but none of them mattered anymore. None of them mattered. Don’t you see it, too? They were all just empty strokes, mimicking the irritating sounds of mechanics turning behind something that shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. It did a lot. Don’t you see? Because she wanted to girl to see that, too.
On her tongue burned many words, but she could not make a sound as for some reason her teeth were left shut together tightly behind frozen lips.
Why are you not ashamed?
Maren thought about it, but - in the end - she never got that part.
So the tiger mare didn’t listen to what the girl said following after that one sentence that broke down whatever bridge had been growing between them. Did not listen to the words any more than she would have listened to the strokes of a clockwork, no matter how pretty. The words simply fell right through her and Maren wondered if the mare had noticed by now. You don’t deserve my kindness. You don’t deserve our Gods.
She came out of her throne of indolence. Why — To feel, to be hurt and to be slapped by her own betrayal and her own ignorance. The rippled skin around her blank, burgundy stare had sank into a pristine cold marble surface. Slowly, matches began to light themselves into elegant flames as lucifer unfroze her solemn lips. Her voice low and her tone bitter-cold, because this fire bore no warmth. "WHY?” she suddenly hissed soundly, rudely interrupting the Rifitian’s chit-chat about the herds. “What right do you have to listen… to ask me to gift you my knowledge… while it is you and your brethren who have given up your own land, letting it be destroyed by your own poisonous minds." Her voice grew colder as the words left her mouth, engulfed with the taste of bitter disgust. "If you don’t leave it will only be a matter of time before we get infected as well.” Give me back my land. The diviner turned her body, hatred flaring in the beating of her pulse and the burgundy of her diverting eyes.
"You don't belong here."
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