Targwyn has never been one who appreciates the feral gaze of others upon her own body, but she says nothing to him. In fact, she does not even let on that it bothers her. Ever since she was a child, she had been looked at as if she were a freak awaiting the arrival of the circus. In a herd as plain as the one she had come from, it was no surprise that someone with her strange markings would be seen as demonic. Perhaps that is what started Targwyn down the path she was currently on. Perhaps, even, things would have turned out differently had her family shown her the least bit of love and respect. Now, she doesn’t understand those words.
At his words, her eyes follow his until they meet. Did he really think her as mad as the mad hatter? Surely not. Then again, he did not know her as well as she knew herself. “Ah, but you have misunderstood.” Her tone is neutral, but the way she starts off her words said as if someone has made a grand epiphany. “I am as sane as the next person.” She pauses to make sure that she still has his undivided attention. Because after all, what she was about to say could be what draws him to her…or what pushes him away. “I am a vessel for madness and chaos. I bring it where it was once not present. But no, I am not mad.” She wanted nothing more than to see other succumb to insanity. She would never take credit for it, but she would ensure that madness took hold and grew from a small seedling that she planted into a grant oak tree that would live on for hundreds of years.
She is about to leave him with parting words, but he is quick to threaten her (or at least as she sees it). The stallion before her claims that she can live should she be of use to him. Little did he know that Targwyn lives under no one’s iron fist. “I live under no king and I serve no gods. Should our interests align, I will work with you, but not under you. Do I make myself clear?” There was a reason that she had chosen no court to call her own. She was a lone ranger, a wanderer of worlds and a taker of lives. She had not lived under a king in years - why start now.
She stands tall, her eyes still resting on the silver stallion and his pet. If they were going to have some sort of working relationship, then perhaps they should start off with formalities. “You may call me Targwyn.” She will not respond to anything other than her name. In the same hand, she will call him by no other name except his given name.
@Raum
