The filly laughs at what Jane says, and she buoys between offense and fellow amusement. But there is nothing malicious at all about this fair figure, and it strikes Jane that she may be doing something right by the way of this person. The giggle is soft and maidenlike. Jane wishes she was maidenlike, sometimes. The mare speaks again, and Jane listens to each word. It occurs that this mare has probably seen more of the world in the past three months than Jane has in her entire life.
“I haven’t really thought about it. I think you’re right, though. I think strangers can change your life more than your own parents.” Jane smiles, “But aren’t all of us strangers at some point or other. Little things become big, big things small. It’s the way of things, I suppose.” She grimaces, “I’m trying too hard to sound smart, I think. I don’t really know many strangers at all.” Jane thinks it may not be right to speak of such things, but she will likely never see this mare beyond one small conversation.
Jane laughs a little at the mare’s confession to bias. “I can see why- I’ve yet to find anything brown in the world that’s pretty, but I assume there’s time. You’re lucky to look as you do- like a sunrise,” Jane doesn’t know if she’s doing this right. She’s only got experience with superiors and inferiors, never anyone on her level. “I’ve been travelling along the sea with my companion. She’s up there, grazing- don’t talk to her, she’s the grumpiest person I’ve ever seen. But she’s also kept me safe these past three months, so I am thankful for her.” She confesses this grudgingly. “She just doesn’t let me do anything.”
Terminus. “Is that where we are?” Jane asks, “I don’t know anything about where she takes me. I’m about as blind as if I lacked eyes entirely. Although, I swear sometimes Hardison wishes that I were blind. And also mute. Yeah.” She laughs a little, relaxing a bit around her fellow mare.
