Evren senses an undercurrent of judgement in Rille at their response to his question, which is demonstrated in the quiet way he averts his gaze and in the pregnant pause that follows. Had the question been some sort of test? If it had, Evren cannot not say whether she and Persephone had passed or failed, especially given how difficult it is for her to comprehend how it could have been a test at all. Yet if there is one impression Evren has of Rille at this point, it’s that he’s not a typical stallion: he is water to their fire, oak to their steel, his words clearly spoken with great care and thought. She feels she must throw out any preconceived notions of men in his presence. Who is to say what he is truly thinking or feeling, or if fairies hold some sort of personal significance to him? Not she.
Evren notes, too, how he switches between speaking of his mother in past and present tense. Suddenly the deep grief she had sensed in him earlier makes sense, and she returns his smile with one of her own as she thinks of her father. She has not thought of Orhan in some time - it pains her too much to linger on the past - but she feels the cold jolt of her own grief then, just as fresh as it had been years ago.
She shakes her head at the names he offers, briefly meeting Persephone’s eyes in silent question, but the mare also responds in the negative. This does not surprise Evren - after all, Persephone is not an island native, so she likely knows even less of Luthien’s history than Evren - but it’s still a shame that they have nothing more to offer Rille. “No, I’m afraid not,” Evren says when Persephone directs the conversation toward her. “I was born and raised on Salem, the desert island, and my grandfather and great-grandparents came from Atlantis.” Evren pauses thoughtfully to step over a root jutting out of the earth. “We would love to hear stories of your family sometime, though. It would be nice to learn the history of our home.”
12; mutt; bay tobiano; 15.3hh |
