Fairspell Meadow we would've made cowardly kings

u have inspired me o:

“I go as wind, do you?”

Stelmaria started to nod, though her muzzle suddenly froze in the downward position. She realized too late that this stranger had not used the common tongue.

Now, it was her turn to tense up. The fluidity of her posture crystallized until she was as rigid as an iced-over lake and the alarm in her eyes had cooled to suspicion. Though her recognition of the slavers’ language could’ve easily gone unnoticed, her sudden and drastic shift in composure could not.

She retreated several steps, glancing around as if she imagined there might be others. Her thoughts whorled with memories she did not want.

Qorro...

Oh, Qorro...

Leave me!

The renewed sense of anguish felt like a claw in her heart, and she abruptly turned to flee, casting him little else than a glance over her shoulder to make sure the distance between them grew.