Chernobyl

The comfortable silence between them was something that could not be mimicked with anyone other. It seemed that while the shaded mare preferred the company of the aged stallion, she was also anxious to see their meeting end, as sullen unease crept into her heart. She was yet so unsure of everything and everyone that isolation was almost a friend of hers. Though, thoughts of such negative orient were exchanged for those of light, exuberance. She wanted to laugh at Myrddin’s response, or perhaps cry because he had spoken so illegitimately of her nature. Something sweet, she was not, and she was sure he mother had never intended such an angelic name for her either. But she smiled, knowing it was something that he would be unable to see or hear. Perhaps she could tolerate him after all. In a sense, his blindness made him all the better, thereby making it impossible to look upon the black eyes of the devil’s spawn. In this, Chernobyl found comfort and instead of running, she decided to stay, though she could not explain why.

“I’m quite certain that Chernobyl has nothing to do with consumables and at that, nothing sweet.” Another smile that looked unwelcome on her dark features. It was as if a storm were constantly brewing inside and the thunder was unending- she was havoc at its best and still so very ignorant of her power.

She looked away from the milky eyes that attempted to see right through her and groped for the right response. A Haruspex; this was something entirely new to her vocabulary. She questioned what exactly he was entitled to under such a rank but was hesitant to ask. Though after a few more moments of unbidden silence, she drew from herself a breathless request. “A Haruspex… someone with knowledge I would assume, as being a warrior is clearly not your strong suit. How did you come by such a title? Or does it only come with age…?” This made her wonder, was there a way that she could acquire such a rank herself? After a time of mulling this over, she turned back to her unseeing companion, clearly distracted by ideas of ambition and success. She sought to overcome her past and she was sure that she knew how to do it, if she had help that it.

“I’ve come… to forget things that are well meant to be forgotten.” Her answer had been cut and dry, as she had no desire to share her life story with the stranger. Perhaps after some time, she would color his picture for him, but it seemed so wrong now, as if she were seeking pity. And that was the last thing she wanted anyone to give her… she only wanted equality and a sense of belonging… and power.

[ooc: yuck…]

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away