there are nights when the wolves are silent
and only the horses howl
and only the horses howl
There hadn't been much stated in their conversation, but each of their movements was a conversation of its own; the backward snap of ears flattening against a muscled neck, the furrowing of dark brows, or even the small twitch of velvet lips all meant something distinctive and pointed.
Maerys had perpetually heard that the eyes were windows that could be seen through at any moment. They exposed torture and tenderness in the same flutter and showcased how every sentiment felt spun through one another to compose the very fabric of any soul. If one was not careful to remain utterly composed they could form, in an instant and with full depth, a comprehensive picture. So as Sloane's eyes offered Maerys a keen look, the reds in her tresses spilling across a sea of darkness like blotted vivid inks, it was like being out in the open amid a hailstorm where every thick chunk of ice was a frosted dagger ripping or bruising skin.
"Aye, thou art correct," she responded with a balanced tone as Sloane's eyes continued to drive, reminding Maerys of the sort of dusk that lingered like soot and ash from the last embers of a sweeping blaze - and despite their power for desolation, they ensnared Maerys in a net of intrigue.
The girl remembered the war history from Varak, her homeland, how for centuries they sought to subdue with a show of power as an opening tactic, the right display of might would save them the bother of going into the trenches at all. So many battles had been won with an impressive display of horses and well-woven banners and Somnus had not shown a second of such leadership tactic, and it was well-received by the girl. She did not want a king who's only desire was expansion and demolition. "'Tis a most wonderous to serve the sovereign, this court, and Oriens," and after just a brief pause, she pressed onwards. "What doth thee do?"
It never crossed the girl's mind that the stranger may have no one job. Maerys had always had this insurmountable drive to be ranked and to rise in the ranks. To be a commoner was, in her opinion, a great disservice to any court if one could be something else. Though who was a two-year-old to judge or question? The ways of the world hadn't relinquished her of her drive yet.
The standoff had seemingly transitioned in a matter of seconds from something hostile, to something fueled by sheer curiosity from both parties.
Or perhaps Maerys simply misunderstood what was truly happening here.
Maerys had perpetually heard that the eyes were windows that could be seen through at any moment. They exposed torture and tenderness in the same flutter and showcased how every sentiment felt spun through one another to compose the very fabric of any soul. If one was not careful to remain utterly composed they could form, in an instant and with full depth, a comprehensive picture. So as Sloane's eyes offered Maerys a keen look, the reds in her tresses spilling across a sea of darkness like blotted vivid inks, it was like being out in the open amid a hailstorm where every thick chunk of ice was a frosted dagger ripping or bruising skin.
"Aye, thou art correct," she responded with a balanced tone as Sloane's eyes continued to drive, reminding Maerys of the sort of dusk that lingered like soot and ash from the last embers of a sweeping blaze - and despite their power for desolation, they ensnared Maerys in a net of intrigue.
The girl remembered the war history from Varak, her homeland, how for centuries they sought to subdue with a show of power as an opening tactic, the right display of might would save them the bother of going into the trenches at all. So many battles had been won with an impressive display of horses and well-woven banners and Somnus had not shown a second of such leadership tactic, and it was well-received by the girl. She did not want a king who's only desire was expansion and demolition. "'Tis a most wonderous to serve the sovereign, this court, and Oriens," and after just a brief pause, she pressed onwards. "What doth thee do?"
It never crossed the girl's mind that the stranger may have no one job. Maerys had always had this insurmountable drive to be ranked and to rise in the ranks. To be a commoner was, in her opinion, a great disservice to any court if one could be something else. Though who was a two-year-old to judge or question? The ways of the world hadn't relinquished her of her drive yet.
The standoff had seemingly transitioned in a matter of seconds from something hostile, to something fueled by sheer curiosity from both parties.
Or perhaps Maerys simply misunderstood what was truly happening here.
![[Image: maerys-pixel.png]](https://i.ibb.co/kM48w8r/maerys-pixel.png){kind=tracking}
x
force and magic always permitted
