[P] gilded cities dripping yellow

[Galileo]

galileo kodarki

i felt the touch of the kings and the breath of the wind

He pauses, his next sip one of thought and consideration, which is very unlike him. This young horse who had so joined him reminded him of his sister, and he couldn't quite shake the feeling. Jane owed him nothing, he had not saved her for glory nor the gifts. But perhaps, what she could offer, was some solace to the stallion, for he was unsure if he would ever see his sister again.

For a moment he allows himself to imagine her now. She would be at the sweet age of seven now, and though she'd always been the wisest of his family, he can only picture her more sage as time had flown by. It was difficult to cast aside the image of the kind filly, young and carefree and full of hope and life. There had never been a moment that he had felt alone with his sister by his side, and she had always done so much for him. How he wished she knew how often she'd saved his soul.

But, she is not here. In her place stands Jane. 

He isn't disappointed by that fact. In all honesty, he is quite relieved that it isn't some guard come to pester him about his behaviour in the Solterran courtyards. No, it is good that it is the young mare, so eager to please and yet so subtle in her presence.

When she speaks, he realises something: just like he, she is alone here. 

You saved my life. Well, yes, he supposes he did. But he didn't do it for the recognition, and he shakes his head slowly. "Maybe I helped, but I don't claim to be any sort of hero." He doesn't look at her, only at his drink, as he muses over the words she speaks.

"I don't know anyone either," he speaks, offering her a slightly less intimidating glance. "It can be scary, being alone, but you'll get used to it. Well, I did."

He feels for the maiden -- he has never been heartless -- and shuffles over a bit to make space for her at the bar. He knows how difficult it can be, in a new world of politics and intrigue, and he doesn't wish to see her corrupted. "What do you aim to do here, Jane? Will you be aiming high, or just seeing what the world has in store for you?"

What he is really asking is who are you? What makes you, you? What do you dream of?  But he has never been a poet and words do not come easily to him. 

-
@Jane

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