I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
Evaline is happy to fade into the background of the ensuing conversation. She breathes a sigh of relief as Avangeline chooses to engage the newcomer about their shared background. That means there was less time to talk about where Evaline was last night and what could have happened during her absence. This couldn't be more unlike the palomino mare, to cower in the corner of a social situation and purposely pursue the role of being an afterthought rather than shining front and center. Despite the improvement in her overall mood from her trip to the Crossing, Evaline was still struggling to find herself and her role in this herd. She had no voice here. There were many independent thinkers and doers here. they all shared a lineage that was meant for the Desert. Evaline had such few experiences in common with any of them.
A golden lobe flicks forward when Gabbar finally addresses her, and the mare heaves a gentle sigh. He is alert and in tune to what's happening with her. The usual Evaline would find that attractive -- she liked that he paid attention and took an interest in her personally. But today she is annoyed by his interest.
"Three sons, actually. And a daughter." Evaline spat, her tone prideful and tired at the same time. "Sometimes it feels that this place never recovered after the great storm that crumbled parts of the islands." She was of course referring to when the badlands and the hills sunk into the ocean. "It's been quiet for many years."
Evaline was not born here, nor did she share some kind of spiritual upbringing. But she had seen the islands change since she stumbled upon them over the years.
17 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Vinyl |