[AW] the heart of the sun

[Shrike]

like a fresh cut flower promises sure to wither up “No,” she agreed, easily enough, “it didn’t.” When Shrike fought, it was only survival she thought of. Neither side would have cared if she had watered the sand with her blood, and likely she would have found a place in this world (had she lived) whoever the victor that night. But she was not dismayed that it wound up the way it did. If her companion was as ill-suited to chatter as Shrike herself, then the medicine-hat did not notice. Just as the roan hadn’t read her thoughts of Calliope, Shrike was aware only of the keenness and coolness in her eyes, the relaxed-but-ready way she stood. She nodded at the next mention of the desert, and her eyes swept out to the landscape in question – what little of it she could see beyond buildings tumbling or tall. The heat here is a corporeal thing, like it was leaning on them; she wonders if she will have grit in her teeth the whole summer. It would not be the first time. At the offer of a job her attention shifts back, an ear flicking forward with interest. “I’d appreciate the way to pass the time.” Without a glance back at the fountain and its glistening surface, Shrike steps after the stranger - Teiran, she learns, and dips her muzzle in wordless response – to go learn what she could of this new world and the horses than inhabited it. @Teiran likewise <3 SHRIKE