I'm sitting pretty in my brand new scars,
and you'll never know —

The broken glass that lined the outskirts of the Edge were almost something that Glasgow could understand. Something that had to have been so beautiful at one point in time, was now shattered and littered upon the ground. Despite that - as the new Glazier began to realize - you could end up taking broken pieces and creating something beautiful again. That's why she was here again, looking upon the pieces of glass with the faded paint that she had created. It surely wasn't going to last very long - but at least it was something beautiful. A small sigh escaped her lips as her glassy eyes studied the pieces of glass that hung from branches and shrubbery, glinting with the movements of the wind becoming almost lost within the fog. But she knew it was there. She'd always know it was there, even when the paint had chipped or ran off completely. She would know what she created, and cherish it in its entirety.

But when she heard a sound, she lifted her scarred face to peer through the blanket of fog, doing her best to distinguish between the different colors in the mists. It was getting harder with her old age, old bones becoming painful with each winter and chill, old eyes getting less and less reliable. She felt a slight twinge of nervousness settle in her stomach until she remembered that she were in fact home and despite the fact she felt as though she hadn't done much - she had proved it enough to her King. So with the thought of the Edge on her shoulders, protection in the fog, she followed where she thought the sound had come from.

Upon further inspection, as the fog lessened, Glasgow spotted a familiar pegasus. The black mare with the familiar white patches and teal dipped caused a smile to grow upon her face. She remembered her from the very painting lesson that the scarred Glazier had held in another section of the shattered wall. Approaching the mare further, she dipped her head - her smile soft and gentle despite the awkward look it probably carried from her already being permanently scarred with a smile. Glassy eyes sought for the mare's for a moment. "Lyanna, is it? I didn't get to tell you thank you for coming to my painting event. I'm Glasgow - if I didn't introduce myself last time. Old age makes it hard to remember." She approached a bit further, but not to encroach upon the pegasus' space. Just enough so the joke she cracked would possibly be in better hearing range. "What brings you to the wall?" She questioned a bit softer, ivory ears perking to listen for the mare's answer - if she were to provide one.

"Talk."

—if you

don't ever

try again.