legacy

Myrika Tears · 01-26-2012, 11:57 AM

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The ruddy coyote would have been surprised with Ezekiel's estimation of her as the best in equestrian pursuits. Myrika always seemed to assume the rest of the world was better than her, and there was no one good thing she excelled at so far as to be the best in that particular arena. She was woefully under-confident in her own abilities, and she did not see the true usefulness of her now-varied knowledge. As Myrika saw it, most in Inferni owned some form of livestock. It had existed within the clan prior to her, and therefore, someone or several someones of Inferni must have more extensive knowledge than she.

The coyote patted patted Eira's neck, and the horse kept her steady pace, contented with the presence of both the gravid mare and the big stallion. Myrika was well-versed enough in reading her own horse to recognize the kinship Eira felt for Viggo, though she could not quite discern how the chestnut horse felt about her blue roan. Myri knew no low speech, and she was only familiar with her own mount due to the longevity of their partnership, truth be told. She thought low speech a lovely skill to acquire, but the auburn-haired woman hadn't the faintest clue about learning such a skill. She had already asked quite a lot of Ezekiel, and though she thought he knew this language, she daren't ask.

Myrika considered the question, glancing back to Kaena. The old woman did not see or did not deem it necessary to make a reply, for she made no move other than those typically made while ahorse. Anything? Everything, she said, nudging Eira to ride directly alongside Viggo. so she might better converse with Ezekiel. The path had widened to allow this, though Oblak still needed to trail behind them, for it had not yet widened to allow the passage of three large horses. I'm supposed to be the historian, twice over -- I should know it all, the rust-haired woman added. I know what Kaena has told me, but I don't know who else to talk to. Halo? Enkiel? I... everyone else seems to have my longevity in Inferni, if that, she said. Or maybe I just don't know everyone as I should. I'm all alone in the schoolhouse, and it's out of the way -- but, someone needs to tend the sheep, too. And -- fuck, I'm rambling on, sorry, she said, her head drooping so the thick waves of her reddish hair very nearly covered her eyes and muzzle.

Myrika is by Alaine!

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