Mesnyi
M
esnyi listened intently to his description; flying was something she was quite certain that she would never experience. She could do many things; sing, divine, dance, play several instruments, as well as a host of what she would prefer to frame as “social” arts. To drift on the wind like a feather was likely to never be on that list. ”That sounds wonderful,” she breathed. ”I can’t draw well either…” All she offered was an ”Oh,” not quite certain if it was a source of angst for the boy (if he even possessed such a thing) or inconsequential. ”Yes, you can learn most things from practice. Perhaps not flying, if you don’t have wings.” She followed along as he flipped through the book. Mesnyi hadn’t yet been to the library, but of the few she had encountered in the past, none of them had allowed you to remove their contents, nor did they allow the pressing of flowers and other such activities…but though she was a citizen of Dawn, she did not think this boy was doing anything terrible by cataloguing plants in a book.
”What kind of music? Can you sing me something?” The lavender mare wasn’t expecting to be asked for any kind of performance, but it wasn’t as though she held any kind of insecurities that would stop her. ”Of course,” she paused, ”Music is something that also gets better with practice. I wasn’t always very good at singing or playing instruments. It took a long time to learn. I’ll sing you something my family taught me on the road.” She hummed a single note for a moment, eyes closed, before beginning an upbeat tune, her voice lilting as a songbird’s:
”Once along the dancing dawn
Came birds in pairs of two,
A you and me and a me and you,
Fluttering two by two.
“Twice along the dancing dawn,
Came girls in pairs of two,
A you and me and a me and you,
Dancing two by two…”
The song had around ten stanzas, crafted (or stolen) by Benevolent for passing time along the road. She would stop of her own accord in another few stanzas if he did not interrupt.
"speaks" | notes: ☽☼☾
"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."
![[Image: 26y3cfu.png]](https://i.imgur.com/26y3cfu.png)
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