Inkheart
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
Just after Inkheart spoke, sounding more reverent and humble than normal, the queen disappears somewhere into the tower. Her dark lobes can only just make out the rustling sound coming from inside, before the paint reappears with a rod and cloth. Her golden eyes watch the movements in silence, listening as the other mare fills in the gaps in her knowledge, in their lack of introduction. Rannveig! She wonders if that name doesn't sound somewhat familiar. 'Chosen ruler.' She makes note in her mind of the humility Rannveig uses when speaking of her title and position. But Inkheart remains silent, distracted by the horrible aftertaste in her mouth, the pain in her side and leg.
The Friesian observes the care with which Rannveig applies the rod, then wraps bandages around it and her leg, securing them snugly, but without constricting the blood flow. She continues with a salve over the nicks that spatter across the black hide; little tufts of hair missing. The smile Rannveig offers softens the harshness of her wintery accent, warms the welcome to the stranger from a land so distant. With a bit of wistfulness, Inkheart observes that such intrusions would not be tolerated in Solterra.
'You are of Day.'
Inkheart feels tension enter the air then, but after a moment realizes it comes from her, not from the queen. The black woman feels vulnerable, at a disadvantage. She's a downed bird in a field of foxes. She thinks for a moment of struggling to her feet, but the horrible flailing of wings and limbs would be so embarrassing she's not sure she could withstand it. So instead she remains on the ground, helpless, and turns her gaze to meet the one trained on her. "I am. My name is Inkheart, a priestess of Solis." Champion of Wisdom, technically, but it is a title that has little meaning thus far. "Thank you for assistance. I had heard rumors of your great healing abilities." She only hopes that the rumors prove true.
