ooc:
She wished then for the voice of her father to guide her and lead her on the right path that need be taken. In her heart, she desired his guiding light and the wisdom she had come to enrich herself with during her time as his pupil and daughter within the Nomads. She wished for him to be there and comfort her, to tell her what she needed to do now… Though she knew it was foolish to try and wish this to be so, her heart pleaded none the less as her shoulders further sank and her eyes peered deeper into the stains of crimson.
Were it not for the talons of her guide tearing relentlessly into her shoulder she could have lost herself in the putrid red til it was all her eyes could behold even as she turned from it. But the sharp detouring guides led her gaze from the grass to her companion, his posture reflecting her own though poised just a little ways. She could not fathom what went on in his mind in their shared moment. Whether he saw these happenings to be her fault or not, she could not presume to know by his expression alone. But what she could see was of the concerned may she had come to call her friend… of the one she deeply cared for with his face now marred by the sadness she had brought upon him. Despite her own woes, it was not fair to burden his wounded form.
Gently she growled to encourage that their eyes meet and she could look beyond the azure veil. His words were kind to her ears, more so than the words of her peers, and so soothing. But it paled in comparison to simply having his presence near. And so she inched closer with a faint smile upon her lips and placed her muzzle lightly upon his shoulder.
“Should I ever admit defeat to these difficulties… the Exultare would never look at me as a warrior again. They would not deem me worth the title of Shepard.” Inhaling a soothing breath, she sighed. “You are right… things are hard. But what journey would this be if the path before me was paved with smooth stones? What Shepard would I be if this place was given rather than earned?” Though the words rang with truth, she could not rightly call herself glad for them. A taxed and weathered plant tended to bear better fruit in the end, but the course to such fruition, she feared, would tear her down by heart and body before she had the chance to see this through.
“…and my friend… you have not deserted me. If the ancestors believed this, they never would have made our paths cross again. The events of our lives transpire for a reason. And perhaps it was for the sake of this moment that the resolution manifested itself this way, regardless of the pain and longing it caused… This all happens for a reason.”