learning from what sad cause he pours his tears? Love hears his ladies crying their distress, showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes because villainous Death has worked its cruel destructive art upon a gentle heart, and laid waste all that earth can find to praise in a gracious lady, save her chastity." When Jetta apologizes for Macabre's current situation, the mare can't help but feel a little embarrassed. She didn't want Jetta to think she was seeking sympathy, or even more, like for her or family to stand in on behalf of her misfortune. Part of her felt guilty for how little she was able to offer the Peak herd while she was there. Her ties there still felt strong, and she was forever grateful for Jetta, Inka and the others' friendship and willingness to stand by her, even in situations like this. macabre couldn't suppress a smile after Jetta's mention of Inka. She'd love to see that -- Inka was just as stout, if not more so, than Vodnik. He'd finally have to stand up to someone his own size. But if she was being honest, Macabre wasn't sure how to place the feelings she had for the stallion. Vodnik was constantly on the forefront of her mind, but not necessarily in the way she had anticipated. Macabre was fearful of him. Their initial meeting had been an excruciatingly nerve wrecking experience for her. But instead of lingering on the trauma from the fear she had felt, Macabre found herself over analyzing the stallion's words, memorizing his facial expressions, and searching for meaning behind his lingering dark stare. There was something about Vodnik that made her curious. She secretly wanted to know more. But the petite chestnut mare was smarter than that. She knew that dramatic situations such as this never amounted to any good. She was wise enough to know that just because the experience had been thrilling -- and he had hadn't kidnapped or attacked her -- that didn't make Vodnik worthy of her time. On the other hand, Ailill had been so kind. And she felt useful here. Ailill would need a sounding board, those of which he could rely on that had more knowledge and experience of this world. An advisory committee of sorts, that he could gauge on the difficult topics that were surely to arise during his tenure as lead stallion of this terrain. She hoped her opinions could be of worth here. That she could watch from afar as Ailill took this place from a desolate, overgrown jungle and turn it into a hearth for those of their kind. In some ways, it would be a motherly role for the mare, whom was robbed of her chance to mother her own kin. She wanted to give guidance, to worry about, to watch grow up. But maybe it was unfair of her to transfer her own issues onto whatever relationship she could potentially have with Ailill. "I'm not sure that would help at this point, if I'm being honest." Macabre finally responded, looking up to her friend with big and wide eyes. "I just hate this feeling that I can't control what's happening in my own life." I saw him weeping there in human form, observing the stilled image of her grace; and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven, where that sweet soul already had its home, which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh." |