dancer on the dawn
Mesnyi did not expect the lump in the distance to move. It did, though, rising on shaking, spindly legs as a new-born foal or a rabid creature very close to death. She approached slowly, the flesh-and-charcoal colored mare coming into focus, though her ribs stuck out far more than her coloring. Mesnyi, of course, was the picture of feminine health; she was all lithe muscle and lavender shimmer. She was not, however, a doctor, and she was certainly not prepared to defend herself against a slobbery kelpie or some other nightmare creature. When she finally grew near to the stranger, she thought perhaps she had been mistaken - the girl was only feverish.
”Are you in need of any help, miss?” she asked, coming up close to Luvena, but not inappropriately so. ”You seem rather ill.” She shifted the violin case on her shoulder nervously and leaned in, just in case the mare was too weak to speak.
@Luvena sorry this is super short!!
"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)
plotter
please tag the proper character for replies
