"Everything's got a story in it. Change the story, change the world.”
It's almost an instinctual reaction to turn the slick stone at Toro's hooves to coarse wood the moment he starts to tumble and shy. Watching him she's not sure what she's supposed to do other than wait (besides maybe cry or laugh). So she only smiles a strange look and stares until he's still enough to speak and sip deeply of his drink.
Isra's glad she's only had water tonight. Part of her thought it was wiser. Another part of her was worried that any of her drinks could be laced by a ghost. Even decked in gold and wealth with a dragon on her back she still doesn't feel completely safe in her own castle. (she still wonders what sort of unicorn that makes her)
“Thank you.” She whispers the word with a smile, wondering if all their gold is loud enough to drown out the sound of her voice. When she bows it's steady and graceful and she wishes briefly that her satin was armor and steel. She wonders what he would have thought of her then. “This is Fable.” The young dragon crawls down her side to move towards Toro. His wings are spread with worry and curiosity.
Fable is young enough to still be enthralled by shiny things and stallion with horns upon their heads like gods. There are very few things in the sea with such horns.
She closes the distance between them again, mostly to protect the two of them from being bumped into again. Perhaps another collision would send him tumbling instead of shying. And of course she did not heal him just to have him wounded at her own party. Her laugh, when Toro speaks again, takes her by surprise.
Oh she longs to be as free at him, as reckless and hazy with drink.
“I've been well. It was more birds made of thunder and the sea that came for us. The gods brought little of themselves here.” Her heart cracks again in her chest, brittle with that old betrayal and her molten anger that is rising every day. Novus is making something less gentle and fearful out of her. Night by night she's changing, like a wraith, like a monster.
“How are your lungs?” She asks with a smile because tonight she doesn't want to change.
@El Toro
