If you did not kill each other, it is a little pointless. Come now.
[That is what she means by "pointless", reacting to that bitter, defensive tone she hears in his voice that sounds so much like her own. The Zenith was still at their numbers, and Meridian was still at theirs. Nothing had been resolved to do with that talking animal. All that had happened was two men had scratched, bit, and punched each other until they both walked away bruised and limping.
But she does not defend Amos Burton, even though she had reacted so viciously to the suggestion that she kill him just because she demanded Set put down the two rabid dogs he'd brought into Meridian's fold. The things Set says about the man... are not exactly wrong. What she hated most about that man... is something that the war god says more eloquently than she ever could. The way he was so willing to cede everything to Yima without question, the way his trust was unshakable in someone who should be doubted and examined...
His hand, though, had been gentle and warm when it had pressed to her cheek that day, when she had first discovered that she had more in common than she'd ever thought to had with a human. The impression of it seeps into Communion whether she likes it or not- how important it had been that someone heard what she'd been and simply understood it. His eyes had been like her eyes, when she had found him pinned beneath the weight of his icy doppelganger, saying that. ... They had feared the same things, when they had been small and weak. She still had feared them, grown and strong, because those were the threats a jinba mare lived under. Amos had become free, in some ways... but she never had.
She cannot defend Amos Burton in words with those truths, though, not just because he is a grown man who can defend himself, but because she had sworn to him never to reveal them. He nearly had, in that debate over Manon's shard... but she hadn't. She thought she wouldn't. Unlike him... she has honor. But that same honor, the dedication to it...]
... Perhaps you would not have been able to stand me, not so long ago.
[She had dedicated herself to the path of the obedient warrior. To survive and avoid being rendered Armless or made into a broodmare, she had been willing to obey and not ask questions, to simply dedicate herself to whoever purchased her and desperately prove her worth to them...
Shifting on the ground, she curls her forelegs in mimicry of how those with two legs might arrange themselves, creating a sort of dun-coated "lap" of powerful equine muscles that is empty and now made into an invitation with a pat of one hand.]
Here. Your hair needs tending.
[All of him needed tending. But she has no herbs, no healing magic, no doctoring skills. - His hair she can manage.]
no subject
[That is what she means by "pointless", reacting to that bitter, defensive tone she hears in his voice that sounds so much like her own. The Zenith was still at their numbers, and Meridian was still at theirs. Nothing had been resolved to do with that talking animal. All that had happened was two men had scratched, bit, and punched each other until they both walked away bruised and limping.
But she does not defend Amos Burton, even though she had reacted so viciously to the suggestion that she kill him just because she demanded Set put down the two rabid dogs he'd brought into Meridian's fold. The things Set says about the man... are not exactly wrong. What she hated most about that man... is something that the war god says more eloquently than she ever could. The way he was so willing to cede everything to Yima without question, the way his trust was unshakable in someone who should be doubted and examined...
His hand, though, had been gentle and warm when it had pressed to her cheek that day, when she had first discovered that she had more in common than she'd ever thought to had with a human. The impression of it seeps into Communion whether she likes it or not- how important it had been that someone heard what she'd been and simply understood it. His eyes had been like her eyes, when she had found him pinned beneath the weight of his icy doppelganger, saying that. ... They had feared the same things, when they had been small and weak. She still had feared them, grown and strong, because those were the threats a jinba mare lived under. Amos had become free, in some ways... but she never had.
She cannot defend Amos Burton in words with those truths, though, not just because he is a grown man who can defend himself, but because she had sworn to him never to reveal them. He nearly had, in that debate over Manon's shard... but she hadn't. She thought she wouldn't. Unlike him... she has honor. But that same honor, the dedication to it...]
... Perhaps you would not have been able to stand me, not so long ago.
[She had dedicated herself to the path of the obedient warrior. To survive and avoid being rendered Armless or made into a broodmare, she had been willing to obey and not ask questions, to simply dedicate herself to whoever purchased her and desperately prove her worth to them...
Shifting on the ground, she curls her forelegs in mimicry of how those with two legs might arrange themselves, creating a sort of dun-coated "lap" of powerful equine muscles that is empty and now made into an invitation with a pat of one hand.]
Here. Your hair needs tending.
[All of him needed tending. But she has no herbs, no healing magic, no doctoring skills. - His hair she can manage.]