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Fool. Tor tells herself, watching incomprehensibly as one more approaches in this land she has seen once before. A different time, a different ally. Now she has declared her colors of the Edge, not bearing flags of gray. Now her heart is pierced just as much as it has been fulfilled by Destrier's love. Now she is dying while living. But what, exactly, does she hope to gain upon intruding on this land? Nothing. The mare as pale as an angel tells herself, and it's true, but she came here anyway. Does she reminisce over the times when she and Ophelia walked together?
It hurts, hurts more terribly than anything she has endured. Why did Ophelia leave her? Didn't she understand? Tor was still there for her. Just because... just because... I did leave her. No, she didn't! All she did was change her colors. Change your colors? Ha! You hurt her as much as you hurt yourself! Tor hadn't meant to! Couldn't Ophelia forgive that? Why had Ophelia been so harsh about it anyways?
The mare is blue. Deepening blue, with a neck of azure clothed in ebony, and a leonine tail twisting gracefully, bobbed with a black tip. She does not speak, but prowls, a slinking vixen with cunning eyes, waiting, watching, for movement. For a long minute Tor waits. It is not long until the breeze whispers of another coming, bearing the scent of death on the wind, and the stygian approaches, earth dying with every step, killing. Murderer. Killer, desecrator. Grass turning bitter, dried, under hooves dark.
State the purpose of your arrival.
What if she has no purpose here? No reason to be here? What does she say? Saved by the third arrival, maybe, she is. A bay unicorn. Tall, seemly, handsome. But she is not swayed by beauty the way she once was. Besides, her heart is already in it for Destrier and the twins she carries inside her round pale belly. Do I tell them nothing? Fate was cruel either way.
"I need to speak to Psyche." Lie. Tor replies quietly, meeting his gaze in silence. His magic does not seem to act on her it acts on the life around it- does it maybe have something to do with being a healer, or him not focusing it on her? Both, Tor thinks to herself. "Privately." The draft adds, for no reason. Well, there is a reason- it would be easier to run if there was only one guarding.
It would be better not to fight, for the sake of her foal.
we all have our stories- i'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
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