When Rohanne learned that the tall, cold-eyed young mare before her had taken over leadership of the bay, a spasm rippled through her gut. Part of her was not surprised, for it made sense: everything about this mare's countenance spoke of authority, as if she had exited the womb with a crown on her head. But it made her all the more intimidating in Rohanne's eyes, and for a moment she was speechless. With parted lips, her eyes flicked toward Nephilim for a split second before she spoke.
"What a weight for such young shoulders," she commented, aware that her voice did not sound as supportive as she had intended. To correct herself - and to be sure that Mariael did not take it the wrong way - she continued. "But I'm sure you'll do a fine job."
For a moment, she wondered if she was expected to bow. Everything about this situation was alien and uncomfortable, from the tension between her and Nephilim, to her first encounter with a blind horse, to the fact that Nephilim's daughters were the age she'd been when she'd given birth, to the fact that a horse her junior was also her superior, that Nephilim had inexplicably given up his title, and even to the fact that Mariael and Maziel appeared to be the same age yet were not twins, and their mother (or mothers) were nowhere to be seen.
She took a deep breath, attempting to clear her mind as the conversation turned. Mariael's question was straightforward, but even still, Rohanne hesitated before she answered, not wanting to give the wrong answer. "I... wasn't here all that long before, I'm afraid. But I was told my family was originally from Tinuvel, so something about it has always called to me. I hope that I can really become familiar with it this time around."
Her speech felt formal and stilted. She hoped Nephilim would not notice.
ROHANNE
4; grullo; draft mutt; 16.0hh |