[AW] >> soul of sand <<

[Seraphina]

Seraphina wasn’t sure what to make of Inkheart, and, frankly, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to. She watched the other mare with her usual, eerie calm, expression belaying none of the emotions beneath – if there were any beneath at all. Silence stretched out between the two of them as the other mare offered no response to her question, rather moving to her hooves, massive wings steadying her rise. Seraphina’s eyes returned to her, and moved with her. A part of Seraphina was rather envious of Inkheart’s wings, in the same way that she was somewhat jealous of Maxence or Viceroy. Though frail and brittle, and, in all honesty, something of a liability in combat, (large, delicate appendages? An easy target for any warrior worth her salt!) flight was a freedom that she would never be granted, a way to scour the endless deserts of the Mors in half the time or to pass across the unknowable depths of the Terminus Seas. She realized that her gaze had lingered on her wings for a fraction of a second too long, before she even realized that the other mare was speaking, and she had to quickly recount Inkheart’s words, that had, admittedly, gone through one ear and out the other. She was doing better…Seraphina looked to be doing better…


She offered a nod of confirmation, a bit awkwardly.


Seraphina pretended that she couldn’t hear the tone of – not venom – perhaps distrust? – in Inkheart’s voice at her next question. “I haven’t heard anything from Maxence,” She replied stiffly, eyes narrowing fractionally in response to the other mare’s hint of a glare, “and I’m afraid that I've been far too busy with my own duties to consider yours. Is there anything that you would have me do?” Any venom provoked in her first statement was quickly masked by her question. Perhaps she had suggestions, and, if her will was truly in alignment with Solis’s, Seraphina would be happy to try to do it…or obligated, at the very least. Her last question took Seraphina by surprise, and it took her a moment to conjure an appropriate reaction. “It has been…an adjustment,” She admitted, a bit reluctantly, “but I find the material intriguing.” The “material,” of course, being the political history in the scrolls in the library - not the diplomacy. Never the diplomacy. She considered the other mare again, allowing her gaze to settle on the brilliant gold of Inkheart’s eyes.


@Inkheart <3