Somehow the sound of Maren's voice had made the other person jump, she realized, as she heard the sudden shifting of leaves and branches. Are you up to no good? she mused in thought, covering up the thought that she was but a fragile doll in the grip of blindness. But of course the thought that this other being had simply not seen her did not cross her mind. Then, however, there was a shout of her name, making her ears jump forward in surprise. As a smug smile grew on her face, she happily confirmed that this was indeed the filly she knew.

She heard the clicking of hooves against marble and she realized the rotunda she had been searching for to rest in had been just there. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but notice that there was something wrong with the pace of it all; the happy and exciting rhythm she was so used to that should've accompanied Ërthe. Not today, it seemed — And as she suddenly remembered their last fight against the ill Tiger God, she concluded that perhaps that old rhythm filled with the nostalgia of a youth wouldn't accompany her any longer at all.

She did it to herself, Maren reminded her own throbbing bosom, fighting the pure pity that rose from her chest in multiplied force. I shouldn't care.

...But as the wings of a child enveloped her, she couldn't help to feel that way, still.

"You're not old" and the diviner chuckled as she lowered her head to gently push her tiger striped neck agains the girl’s pale one, let her own small white wings spread out their feathered fingers to embrace her warm, but fragile body. The layer of worry in the little one’s voice had not gone unnoticed, but Maren jolted with a snort in their grip,  amused. "Yeah, I know. Don't tell anybody," she joked. "My youth is my biggest secret." She grinned, it was true though: People did tend to give more trust to someone older (or pretending to be). “Did you know that wisdom doesn’t actually come with age, but rather with experience? Don't pretend you do know, because no one does except for me.” Her body shook as she laughed. And suddenly she wished that she could see, that she could... feel more compassion for this girl, be more kind, because she obviously deserved it. Her heart was a good one, candid and strong. The diviner could only hope it wasn't yet too tainted, too corrupted by her unlucky faith. That the girl, unlike herself, would still be able to care.

Ironically, even though it might only be that they were both wounded at a young age, she randomly realized that they could have a lot in common.  

The girl pulled away and Maren smiled again, unable to sense the awkwardness of the girl. "My lack of sight is nothing more than a good story," she said. "Exactly one year ago I got a quest from the God of the Earth to go and enhance my senses through experiencing. I did as he told me and as a result I am now blind, but only temporarily. I will be okay in a few days.” Maren had attempted before to try and find the girl’s eyes on sound, but since she couldn’t know whether she had got it right, she had now decided to just look straight ahead. Then Maren’s alabaster face turned grim, “I remember you being wounded from the fight,” she asked carefully. “How is it? Is it bad? I wish I could see you.” And she pressed her lips together in a line, suddenly bothered by her third eye’s imaginary picture of Ërthe without any wounds. I am only lying to myself to make me feel better. Who was she kidding: Being blind sucked.




"Talking."

Maren

BY THE PRECEPTS OF HER PURITY