Melisma is comforted in his beliefs and feelings for his children, glad to know they are not just numbers to him. With the way he stood over the graves here, and his actions when his mare and child had been taken, the black mare had already known he was different anyways. Sometimes though, it took someone actually saying it, to really believe it. For someone raised so differently, Melisma was slowly learning the difference thanks to him.
“What do you see in me, Cain?” Melisma asked. It was not her seeking compliments or continued comfort. The dark mare truly did not know and could not see what he was talking about in herself. “What potential do I have, for you to say you are blessed and humbled to be in the presence of a mare that has accomplished nothing?” Whatever it was, whatever future he wanted from her that he wanted to see it, Melisma would strive for it. His faith alone would be the fuel to her fire, to make her be more but only for what he saw in her. Because in truth, she would always be blind to it.
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