Mesnyi
silver lining.
“Maybe so,” he says, and Mesnyi does nothing but huff a little breath. Nothing is definite, and anyway, who would want it to be? We are useless without our own torments. Her sovereign looks at her, finally, so she forces herself to meet his gaze. “Will you stay awhile?” He asks. “I don’t even know your name yet, and I think I could use the company.”
He smiles, then, and it is not so hard to look at him anymore. “You will know it soon enough,” she says. “Company is all the greater, with a little mystery.” The silver mare lies down beside the pool, if only to watch their expressions in the water.
@Ipomoea "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."
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