briar
Briar can hear the quiet sobs that grow into real, pained screams. She can see her mom as she throws her head into a tree and falls apart—again and again, pale red fur ruffling by the cruel bark of a tree, spindly and broken antlers tangling in low-hanging branches, eyes bloodshot as snot drips from her nostrils.
Perhaps that is why she lingers.
Araxes, in her own miniscule way, reminds Briar of the mother that lives on in her head; and if she cannot save that mother, then perhaps she can save the piece of her this stranger holds.
“Are you sure . . .” the wine-stained mare whispers in response, blinking gemstone eyes down at the now weak-smiling woman. Briar simply shakes her head and smiles when the striped girl mentions putting her in distress. She does not feel any particularly distress, unless one considers her desperate need to soothe any aches distress.
Briar’s new companion rises to all four hooves, so she takes a couple of steps back to allow her room. The tips of her ears quiver when Dusk Court leaves Araxes’ lips. Bri’s eyes light up like the sun just breaking over the horizon.
“Araxes . . . lovely name. You’re a part of the Dusk Court? I, uh—I just settled into Terrastella as a soldier, though I must admit I do not know much of fighting.” This she admits with a shy smile and kick of her right hoof into the dry dirt. Though she knows little, an itching in chest begins to build, one that speaks of secret excitement with the idea of physical sparring. Despite her upbringing, there is an unforgiving and ferocious creature just rumbling to life inside of her.
“Are you new to . . . um, Novus, is it? I don’t much of the people . . . or the religion . . . or anything.”
Briar rambles in the hopes that it might distract Araxes from whatever she may be suffering through. She is young and naive but is trying her best.
@Araxes
