She had been in this place called Novus for some time now, following along with her caravan as they performed at strange little settlements and within the walled cities of the various courts. Her companions would linger yet - Novus was too far away for a brief excursion only - but she had departed from them, drifting into this place called dawn, her time of the day, she knew in her heart, and claiming herself to be one of its residents. She was not yet important to anyone here, but she would be, soon, she was certain. And so, she stepped into the court, the center of its doings, it seemed, where the equines of this place gathered and she stood right in the middle of it.
…What else was she going to do?
She pawed at the ground and looked about at the different people passing by, stallions and mares and fillies and colts, some pretty, others not so much, but no one truly caught her eye. No one seemed to notice her. Not yet. Truly, all the times she had ventured out it was with a companion in mind, and here she was, alone, not familiar enough with this place to really know what she ought to be doing for fun. She sighed, and puffed out her chest - Mesnyi would not be discouraged yet, for all her beauty and fortitude.
"You see, women are like fires, like flames. Some women are like candles, bright and friendly. Some are like single sparks, or embers, like fireflies for chasing on summer nights. Some are like campfires, all light and heat for a night and willing to be left after. Some women are like hearthfires, not much to look at but underneath they are all warm red coal that burns a long, long while."
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