[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/NxE57rH.jpeg[/img][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/center][right][sup][color=#a9c9eb][b]#a9c9eb[/b][/color][color=2e2c2c]...[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]...[/color][url=https://i.pinimg.com/1200x/9e/d6/ba/9ed6ba913739602155ea7b1ec41975d3.jpg][color=9b9b9b][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url][/sup][/right]

[indent][indent][color=#808080]The mare’s ears pricked toward the doorway a full second before the old hinge let out its low, protesting whine. Maylisse, however, pretended not to notice. Her arm kept moving in its long, steady sweep across the horse’s side, the coarse fibres of the brush following the curve of its powerful shoulder. She finished the stroke, lifted the brush, and rapped it firmly against a leg in white cotton leggings, sending a small cloud of dust into the sunlit air. One more deliberate pass. Then another.[/color]

[color=#808080]The truth was, the mare had been immaculate for the last quarter of an hour. This was no longer about removing dirt or smoothing its coat. It was a ritual, a repetitive motion that carved a pocket of order out of the uncertainty that had become her life after…well, who knew exactly when. All that mattered was that the rhythm was predictable, precise, and entirely hers to command, a luxury she found almost nowhere else truly. Only when she felt the last frayed edge of her own composure had been neatly tucked away did she deign to cast a single, slow look over her shoulder. Her lips remained sealed; the look itself was question and statement enough.[/color]

[color=#808080]The figure standing in the entrance seemed entirely assembled from the wrong parts for this place.[/color]

[color=#808080]It wasn't that she seemed like an outsider. Maylisse was accustomed to all kinds of unlikely people drifting into her orbit. Her mother’s life had been practically full of them. There were bankers who pretended to be philanthropists, nobles who treated kindness like a transaction, and men who confused bullying with charisma. She had even grown up around predators who smiled as they sipped champagne, who gave pretty names to their cruelty and called it ambition. Her mother had labelled them all ‘investments.’ Maylisse had simply called it training.[/color]

[color=#808080]But this girl—this [/color][color=#808080][i]demigod[/i][/color][color=#808080]—was different from any of them. Maylisse had never really been around others like herself before. She knew the stories, of course. She’d read the secret files from her mother’s contacts about the “others” born from the whims of the gods. She had pictured them as loud, arrogant, and smaller copies of their divine parents’ worst qualities. This one, however, seemed almost timid, a quiet contradiction wrapped in ordinary clothes. And that unsettled her far more than any show of power would have.[/color]

[color=#808080]She was smaller than Maylisse had expected, and, strangely, she wore a pair of sunglasses in the dim stable, a choice that would have been funny if not for the rest of her appearance, which made it seem intentional. In fact, it all seemed to match the bored-looking sloth on her sweatshirt. Other details quickly formed a picture as well: the way her jaw tightened and then relaxed as if she were stopping herself from speaking; the subtle unsteadiness in her stance that suggested she wasn't quite balanced; and the tilted angle of her head that, behind those dark lenses, gave nothing away. People often hid their eyes when they were guarding their thoughts, after all.[/color]

[color=#808080]In sum, this stranger had the air of a person who had clearly endured a protracted night and was in no mood to account for it. This arrangement was perfectly acceptable to Maylisse. Admissions of weakness were for priests and philanthropists. She was neither, nor did she have any desire to be.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“And yet,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse stated finally, returning her focus to the mare with another languid stroke,[/color][color=#a9c9eb] “you found someone.” [/color][color=#808080]Her voice was cool and flat, not meant to be friendly but not exactly cruel either. It was a testing remark designed to see how this girl would handle a conversation that offered no easy kindness or helping hand.[/color]

[color=#808080]The only answer was a shuffling sound, the scuff of a shoe on the wooden floorboard that creaked under uncertain weight. The mare let out a soft, huffing breath, a visible puff in the cool air of the stable, and Maylisse’s mouth curved into the faintest hint of a smile.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Come all the way in,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse directed, not pausing as she worked on the horse’s coat. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“You’re letting the draft inside.” [/color][color=#808080]It wasn’t a request, the words carrying the simple authority of someone accustomed to being listened to, whether by animals or people. When the girl finally obeyed, pushing the door shut with a quiet thud, Maylisse didn’t turn around. She didn’t have to. She felt the mare’s large frame ease slightly instead, the way an animal does when it decides a new presence isn’t dangerous. That was a point in the girl’s favour. It showed a basic competence or at least a lack of outright stupidity.[/color]

[color=#808080]With the door closed, the stable settled back into its quiet peace, the steady, rhythmic sound of the brush and the soft rustle of hay filling the space where hello or my name is would normally be. Maylisse had no time for such empty pleasantries, however. She would always prefer to measure a person by the character of their silence than by their awkward attempts to fill it. So, when she did choose to break the quiet again, her tone was almost thoughtful.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“So, who decided a stable was the place to be this morning and right before training? Are you lost?” [/color][color=#808080]The question had nothing to do with geography, given that the arena was just next door. It was a probe into the girl’s purpose —her reason for being here, of all places.[/color]

[color=#808080]She shifted her weight, finally turning just enough to let her gaze travel over the girl from head to toe once more, a slow and thorough inspection.[/color]
[color=#a9c9eb]“Name?”[/color]

[color=#808080]An expectant silence stretched between them, a gap that seemed to demand to be filled. Neither of them moved. Then, a single, blunt word cracked the quiet.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“W-what?”[/color]

[color=#808080]The corner of Maylisse’s mouth twitched, her head canting with a show of patience that was entirely manufactured. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Your. Name,” [/color][color=#808080]she clarified, enunciating each word as if coaxing sense from a recalcitrant child. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“What. Is. Your. Name?” [/color]

[color=#808080]In return, a soft, dismissive noise escaped the other girl, not unlike the sound the mare had made earlier. Even with the sunglasses hiding her eyes, Maylisse could feel the eye-roll as clearly as if she’d seen it.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“What. Is. Your. Name?”[/color][color=#808080] the girl echoed, her voice a flat, mocking imitation. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Seriously? Do I look like a puppy to you?”[/color]

[color=#808080]That provoked a reaction perilously close to amusement from Maylisse, a flicker so subtle only the most observant would catch it. [/color][i][color=#a9c9eb]Better,[/color][/i][color=#808080] she thought. There was clearly a backbone beneath that initial exterior of softness. She set her own brush down on the stall’s wooden rail, her fingers skipping over the mane comb to instead take a second, matching brush from a hook on the wall. She held it out, her arm extending fully but her feet remaining firmly planted. The decision to close the distance was now entirely in the stranger’s hands.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Tell you what,”[/color][color=#808080] Maylisse said. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“How about we exchange pleasantries if you prove you can follow simple instructions without fuss?” [/color]

[color=#808080]The girl’s head cocked a fraction, a movement so small it might have just been a shift in balance. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“[/color][color=#5a3e85][i]Wow[/i][/color][color=#5a3e85],” [/color][color=#808080]she said, her voice dripping with false awe. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Is this your special charm you use on everyone, or did I just fucking win the lottery today?”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“I talk to people in the manner they best respond to,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse said coolly, not retracting the brush. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“And so far, this seems quite appropriate for you.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The girl let out a short, humourless puff of air at that. It was impossible to tell if it was from amusement or sheer disbelief. She didn’t immediately reach for the brush, instead pushing her sunglasses up her nose with a finger as if she was seriously considering whether Maylisse was worth the effort. For a moment, Maylisse actually thought she might walk away, and a small, unexpected part of her would have given her points for it.[/color]

[color=#808080]But of course, she’d clearly come here to hide from something.[/color]

[color=#808080]Finally, the girl moved. She approached the horse the right way, circling wide around its shoulder and avoiding the risky space near its front hooves—a point in her favour. She put her water bottle down on a hay bale and then, only then, accepted the tool from Maylisse’s outstretched hand. Her first stroke was hesitant, barely making contact with the dark coat. But the next one was better, the bristles landing with the right amount of pressure and following the same smooth, rhythmic path Maylisse had been using. [/color][color=#a9c9eb][i]Adequate, [/i][/color][color=#808080]Maylisse decided. She could pay attention. She could learn. Competent little cow. [/color]

[color=#808080]A comfortable silence fell between them, much like the one Maylisse had been enjoying before she was interrupted. Strangely, though, she found herself being the one to break it this time.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“So,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse began, her voice a blend of casual interest and genuine inquiry, [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“did you just get to camp, or shall I assume you’ve been finding places to hide this whole time?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Another pause opened up, filled only by the soft, scraping sound of the brush. The girl didn’t glance up from her work when she finally replied. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Maybe I’m just someone who appreciates animals,”[/color][color=#808080] she said, her voice devoid of any real emotion. It was an answer that skillfully avoided saying anything at all.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Mm,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse hummed, a low, considering sound, [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“and maybe I like people who can tell the difference between deflection and depth. Could you [/color][color=#a9c9eb][i]try[/i][/color][color=#a9c9eb] to be more interesting, love? I’ve been up since dawn, and the mare’s already proven more forthcoming.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The other girl didn’t snap back this time. Instead, her next brushstroke slowed, and something almost weary passed through her posture. When she finally spoke, the sarcasm had softened around the edges.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Anissa,”[/color][color=#808080] she said after a pause, the name quiet but definite. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“My name is Anissa.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse inclined her head slightly, enough to acknowledge but not to thank. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“See? That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa let out a vague hum that could have meant yes, no, fuck you, or whatever, and focused back on the horse. Her movements were more confident now, the brush gliding in a way that began to sync with the other ambient sounds of the stable.[/color]

[color=#808080]After a few moments, she tried again. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Couldn’t sleep?” [/color][color=#808080]Her tone wasn’t warm, but it was closer to something conversational. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“You mentioned you’ve been up since before dawn.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The question itself was harmless, but it carried the cautious weight of someone seeing if a bridge could be built between them. Maylisse watched her from the corner of her eye, her own expression carefully blank, though a spark of surprise briefly lit within her before being extinguished.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“No,”[/color][color=#808080] she said simply. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“I arrived before it.” [/color][color=#808080]Her voice had the cool finality of a statement meant to discourage further probing. But Anissa’s question lingered longer than Maylisse expected, not because of what it asked but because of what it implied: that there had been something worth staying up late for in the first place.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“You say that like you weren’t alone in being up late,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse noted, her tone light but with a pointed edge. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“What was so important that it kept everyone from their beds?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa paused, the ghost of an awkward smile touching her lips. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“There was a… party,”[/color][color=#808080] she admitted. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“For New Year’s. Or, you know, whatever passes for one around here.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The comb in Maylisse’s hand froze for a single, telling second. She didn’t turn around, but that sudden break in her motion was a crack in her otherwise perfect composure. A party. How utterly predictable. It was so very human to answer the call of the gods with mindless celebration. And on the night before their training was to begin, no less. What possible logic could her brother have used to allow such a frivolous distraction?[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“I see,”[/color][color=#808080] she said after a long moment, resuming her work while her tone gave nothing away. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“How positively industrious.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“You didn’t hear about it?”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“No, Anissa dear, I believe I just stated that I arrived before dawn.” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse’s reply was sharp, though it was also almost courteous by her standards. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“I wasn’t… informed of the festivities.”[/color]

[color=#808080]This was the truth, though the realization chafed more than she would ever concede. It wasn't a yearning for inclusion that nettled her but the stark reminder that her father had dispatched her here with no illusion of camaraderie. Her role was not to be welcomed but to be assessed, quantified, and, if the situation demanded, regarded with apprehension. It occurred to her then that River might be genuinely ignorant of this design. She could all too easily envision her esteemed half-brother, the paragon of Poseidon’s benevolence, delivering a welcome address with the unshakable confidence of a man who believed authority could be earned through affability. The ocean, she mused, would find that notion deeply amusing. She sure as hell did. [/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse swept a stray lock of the mare’s mane aside with a touch more vigour than was required, provoking a twitch of the animal’s ear in response.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“And what exactly does a demigod celebration entail?”[/color][color=#808080] she asked, her tone cool again with feigned curiosity masking genuine intrigue. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“I imagine there’s an impressive amount of arrogance to go around.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa let out a soft, breathy sound that could have been a stifled laugh. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Depends on who you ask, I think. There was music. Dancing. Probably too much alcohol.”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Ah. So chaos.”[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Pretty much,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa admitted. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Though not all bad. The bonfire was nice. Things were just… loud at times with the music, then the fireworks.”[/color]

[i][color=#808080]Loud. [/color][/i][color=#808080]The word seemed to suspend in the chilled air between them, and Maylisse’s mouth curved into a contemplative line. Boisterous, unrestrained, and so utterly human. It stood in direct opposition to every principle of discipline she had been raised to uphold. And yet… an involuntary image began to form in her mind: the snow covering the earth, the blaze of a bonfire cutting a swath through the winter’s bite, the sound of revelry rising like a provocation to the heavens. It was fundamentally naïve, without a doubt, but there was a certain bravery in that image, a quality she found herself unable to completely disregard.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“You never told me your name, by the way,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa stated then without lifting her gaze. Her delivery was almost casual, the sort that could be mistaken for a fleeting thought if not for the slight deceleration of her hand that betrayed a focused intent.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“You never asked,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse countered, keeping her voice neutral. It emerged a fraction too controlled despite her best efforts, however, so she adjusted her tone, inflecting it with a touch of lightness. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“You may, if it’s that important to you.”[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“I just figured it was fair,”[/color][color=#808080] Anissa murmured. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Seeing as I’m working for you now.”[/color]

[color=#808080]That earned a real reaction, the faintest ghost of a smirk. Maylisse turned her head just enough for Anissa to catch the glint of amusement in her eyes. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Fair enough,” [/color][color=#808080]she allowed. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Maylisse.” [/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa repeated it under her breath as if fitting it to a shelf. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Maylisse....”[/color]

[color=#808080]The phonemes landed differently in the other girl’s mouth. Softer, more… ordinary. Maylisse found she intensely disliked the alteration. Regardless, she offered more information.  [/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Maylisse Beaumont,” [/color][color=#808080]she stated, her voice crisp and clear. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Daughter of Poseidon. And yes, I am the half-sister of your so-called ‘leader.’”[/color]

[color=#808080]That finally got a big reaction. One you could actually see.[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa’s brush stopped dead, hovering in the air for a moment that was just a little too long to be meaningless. The set of her shoulders tightened, and the very air in the stable seemed to grow colder. When she started brushing again, her motions were careful and guarded, the easy rhythm from before completely gone. She didn’t say anything at first, and Maylisse, while pretending to be fully focused on the horse, watched her closely in the shiny surface of a brass lamp fixed to the wall.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Half-sister,”[/color][color=#808080] she echoed quietly. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“You two don’t… seem much alike.”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Is that an observation or an insult?”[/color][color=#808080] Maylisse asked without turning.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“It’s neither,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa replied, and Maylisse was mildly surprised by how steady her voice remained, given her earlier reaction.[/color][color=#5a3e85] “It’s just… difficult to imagine you and River coming from the same god, that’s all.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The comment pulled a short, bitter laugh from Maylisse. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“We didn’t have playdates, if that’s what you’re wondering,”[/color][color=#808080] she said flatly. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Poseidon doesn’t do parenting. He identifies, he provides resources, and if you fail to meet his expectations, he cuts his losses and moves on.”[/color]

[color=#808080]This, too, gave Anissa pause. The cadence of her brushing slowed, and she inclined her head slightly toward the mare’s neck as if seeking refuge in the animal’s solid presence. When she spoke again, the question was cautious but laced with something like understanding, perhaps. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“So… he sent you here, too?”[/color]

[color=#808080]The question was simple, but it brushed too close to the truth. For a moment, Maylisse considered denying it and offering some aloof remark about choice or discipline. But there was something in Anissa’s voice, an unguarded curiosity tinged with the same exhaustion Maylisse had noticed in her posture earlier, that made deceit feel far too beneath her.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Summoned, actually,” [/color][color=#808080]she corrected.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“That sounds…intense.” [/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“That would depend entirely on whether you’re strong enough to handle it,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse returned, a thread of dark pride in her words. Her father’s commands were never requests; they were tests disguised as natural disasters. If Anissa thought that sounded harsh, it was only because she had never experienced the full weight of a god’s attention—and with any luck, she never would.[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse took a measured step back from the mare, her gaze travelling over the animal’s form to assess the results of their labour. Her fingers drifted absently over the curry comb, its rigid bristles a stark contrast to the fluidity of her thoughts as she considered whether to push the conversation or let it rest.[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa was the one who broke the stalemate.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“He never spoke of a sister. At least, not another one with divine blood.”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Is that so?”[/color][color=#808080] Maylisse replied mildly, tone deliberately unreadable. She knew what the girl was really trying to say: that she was a stranger even to her own brother. Or perhaps….[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“I imagine he had his reasons,”[/color][color=#808080] Anissa added, the statement voiced more to the air between them than to Maylisse directly. It was this shift, this introspective murmur, that captured Maylisse’s focus anew. There was no discernible aggression in the girl’s posture, no righteous indignation or protective stance. Instead, a more complex emotion seemed to reside there. A personal injury, maybe, or a dawning perplexity. She carried it with a certain grace, but not so completely that it escaped notice. Not to someone who had been taught to make note of such things.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“I have no doubt he does,”[/color][color=#808080] Maylisse answered after a calculated pause, her eyes narrowing a fraction. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“The same way our father always does. Omission, after all, is such an[/color][i][color=#a9c9eb] elegant [/color][/i][color=#a9c9eb]weapon.”[/color]

[color=#808080]A faint crease materialized between Anissa’s eyebrows as she turned this over. When she finally raised her head to meet Maylisse’s look, it held no challenge. Instead, it was an expression of wary assessment, the sort a person employs when determining which truths are safe to expose.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“He never spoke of me because my existence was never intended for common knowledge,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse stated, her tone deceptively light as if discussing a minor detail rather than laying bare her designated role in their familial structure.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“That’s…” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa began, then stopped. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“That’s not what he’s like.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Not accusatory. Not outraged. Merely… corrective. Defending not the god, Maylisse noted, but the [/color][color=#808080][i]son[/i][/color][color=#808080].[/color]

[color=#808080]Interesting.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Isn’t it?”[/color][color=#808080] she replied with feigned nonchalance, bending to inspect the mare’s fetlock for any traces of dust. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“He is what he’s been shaped to be. We all are. Some of us are meant to be banners, and some of us  are meant to be kept in the wings until needed.” [/color][color=#808080]A dismissive tilt of her chin followed. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“And to whom does he mention anything that actually matters, regardless?”[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“He isn’t obligated to tell me everything,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa countered, her voice gaining a firmer texture. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“He doesn’t… even know who I am.”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Mm. And yet you sound very much like someone who thinks she does know him or should be privy to such information as familial lines.”[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“That’s not what I said.”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“No,” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse agreed, finally turning just enough to catch the girl’s profile beneath the tint of those ridiculous glasses.[/color][color=#a9c9eb] “It isn’t. But it is what you [/color][color=#a9c9eb][i]betrayed[/i][/color][color=#a9c9eb].”[/color]

[color=#808080]The mare twitched an ear at the mounting strain, calming only when Maylisse’s palm made contact with the solid warmth of her neck. Seeing no further advantage in restraint, Maylisse decided to crystallize her position.[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Here is a story that does not require belief. I was sent to test my brother’s leadership abilities. To find the [/color][color=#a9c9eb][i]rot[/i][/color][color=#a9c9eb], if there is any, and cut it out.” [/color][color=#808080] She let her gloved fingers trail from withers to shoulder, and the horse leaned into it, unaware, or perhaps unconcerned, that its caretaker spoke of bloodlines and butchery in the same breath.[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa didn’t answer immediately, but she wasn’t scared. That much was obvious.[/color]

[color=#808080]Finally, she asked, [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Why does it sound like you’re sure he’s going to mess up?”[/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“I like to think of it as being ready for anything.” [/color][color=#808080]Maylisse moved around the horse, coming closer to where Anissa stood. Her boots made no noise on the straw.[/color][color=#a9c9eb] “I’m not worried about him failing. I’m worried about what might be wrong with this place already. A sickness in the ranks. A problem at the very center.” [/color][color=#808080]Her eyes dropped to the brush in Anissa’s hands. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“You’d be shocked how often something that looks like loyalty is actually a flaw waiting to cause trouble.”[/color]

[color=#808080]For the first time, Anissa’s calm expression wavered. Her mouth opened as if she had a quick reply, but she stopped herself. Maylisse saw that flash of feeling and knew exactly what it was: the need to stick up for someone, even when you don’t have all the facts.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“I think you’d be shocked,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa said, her voice low,[/color][color=#5a3e85] “how many people see someone who truly believes in something and call it a problem.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse’s eyes narrowed. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“And what do you think River is? Someone with conviction or someone corrupt?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa’s reply was gentle but firm.[/color][color=#5a3e85] “That’s not for me to decide.”[/color]

[color=#808080]It was a smart answer as it didn’t give anything away while not being a lie at the same time. A real politician’s move, so to speak. Maylisse watched her for another second before her face went blank again. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Let’s hope you can keep that up when you’re face-to-face with him.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa let out a slow breath, sounding exhausted. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“You talk like everyone here is just part of some experiment.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse tilted her head, thinking about the gentle way she’d said it. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Everyone is part of a test,” [/color][color=#808080]she replied. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Some people make the cut. Others show exactly why they needed to be tested in the first place.”[/color][color=#808080] She put the comb back where it belonged with a firm [/color][color=#808080][i]click[/i][/color][color=#808080], a sound that seemed to cut the air between them. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t feel bad for merely paying attention.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The quiet that settled over them was tense but not angry. It was the kind of silence that comes after all the important things have been said. Specks of dust floated in the slants of cold morning light coming through the wooden walls, landing on the straw like little gold flecks. The mare, feeling the mood change, let out a loud breath and stomped one foot before settling down again.[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse walked to her coat hanging on the stall door. She brushed off a few pieces of straw and swung it over her shoulders. She had said what she came to say, and the stable’s peace felt like an ending to the conversation. Still, she could feel Anissa watching her the whole time, even from behind those silly dark glasses.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Paying attention,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa repeated after a moment, the word rolling off her tongue with a tone that landed somewhere between skepticism and reluctant acknowledgment. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“That’s one way to phrase it.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse turned her head just enough to look at her without stopping. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“What word would you use instead, then?”[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Cold. It’s a cold way to see things,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa said plainly. There was no anger in her voice, just a simple statement.[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse’s lips curved, but the expression carried no warmth. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Cold keeps the rot from spreading, love,” [/color][color=#808080]she replied, adjusting the cuff of her glove. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“It’s the heat that makes things fester.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa didn’t answer right away. Her hand stayed in the mare’s mane, her fingers slowly combing through the rough hairs as she thought. Then, with one last stroke of the brush, she put it down and wiped her hands on her leggings. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Maybe,” [/color][color=#808080]she said quietly. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“But heat is also what helps things grow.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The line between them held, neither woman giving nor retreating.[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse fastened the top button of her coat, looking like someone sealing off any weak spots. The feeling between them had chilled, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. This, at least, was a form of truth she could appreciate.[/color]

[color=#808080]Anissa hung her own brush back on its hook and picked up her water bottle. She gave the mare one last, automatic pat between the ears, a gesture that seemed to comfort her more than the horse, before turning to leave.[/color]

[color=#808080]For a moment, Maylisse thought she might not say something further, not even some small gesture of closure, as Anissa simply passed her. Yet, as she drew level with Maylisse, she paused just long enough for a ghost of breath to fog the air between them.[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“You keep things from festering,” [/color][color=#808080]Anissa said quietly. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“But sometimes rot isn’t the problem. Sometimes it’s the roots. We all just… find our own ways to cope, don't we?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Without waiting for a reply, she moved past, unlatched the stable door, and pushed it open. A flood of weak light and chilly air rushed in. The hinges let out a low groan, and the mare lifted her head at the sound. Then, the noise of Anissa’s footsteps grew quieter as she walked away, disappearing into the morning.[/color]

[color=#808080]Maylisse stood motionless, her hand resting on the stall door. After a moment, she gave the mare’s shoulder a final touch and turned to leave. By the time she stepped outside, Anissa was already a dark shape in the distance, heading into the training arena. Maylisse followed a few minutes later because, like it or not, that was where she had to be. The outside air stung her skin, but she took one deep breath, letting the cold push out the last of the stable’s warmth from her lungs.[/color]
[/indent][/indent][hr][sub][color=9b9b9b][b][i]Location: Stables-->Arena 
Interactions: Anissa
Mentions: River[/i][/b][/color][/sub]