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Post by fynli on Mar 28, 2018 11:59:08 GMT -6
Fire and Ice
Wolfe & Saoirse
Year 1696, Flower Festival
2 dumbasses forced to get along with each other before marriage |
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Post by fynli on Mar 28, 2018 13:19:05 GMT -6
= Saoirse =
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Saoirse’s annoyed tone grated her mother’s ears again as the mare carefully pulled a comb through her daughter’s tangled locks. If the interruption had stirred discontent with her, she certainly did not show it. Camellia was a stoic mare through and through. Saoirse hated it.
“I owe him a favor from years back, sweetheart. Besides, it would be good for our families to come together as one.” Mellie’s voice was just as cold as her soul as she threw down a cheap explanation, earning an exasperated groan from the other mare. Her mother did not budge when it came to arranged events and no matter how hard Saoirse fought this one, she wasn’t getting out of it anytime soon. Her freedom, lost. Her wild and untamed identity, shackled to a man she didn’t even know.
With a sigh, Mellie placed the final flower into her daughter’s mess of a mane, stepping back to judge her masterpiece. Saoirse stared at her blankly, feeling more and more like a pampered doll the longer she stood there. Her mother finally gave her the slightest of smiles and ushered her outside, keeping her daughter close in case she decided to bolt at the sign of the first attractive bachelor. Saoirse despised this, the one time of year she got to be free and be herself- frankly just fucking around as she pleased. She didn’t bother faking a smile as Camellia stopped her on a small hill overlooking the rest of the valley and took another moment to tidy her up once more.
Scoffing, Saoirse pushed her off, tail flicking irritably. She was twenty-six years old, she wasn’t a filly anymore. It was even more ridiculous that she was being sold off at this age.
Mellie frowned disapprovingly at her behavior, stamping her hoof against the ground to get her daughter’s attention. “You will do this for our family, Saoirse. Stop being selfish and do what’s expected of you.” Sighing, she looked over the valley, ears pricking as she spotted the familiar mass of her old friend. “Now,” Mellie started sternly, giving Saoirse a cold stare, “you’ve seen him before multiple times dear. Bright red mane, tall stature, built like a mountain.”
“And old,” Saoirse interrupted her, ignoring her mother’s look and letting her gaze roam over the bachelors present. As well as some bachelorettes… The tug of teke forced her chin to turn back to Camellia, both mares glaring at each other.
“Give him a chance Saoirse, you never know. You may find you like him.” Her mother’s voice had a hint of smugness to it as she gave another of her infamous frozen smiles. Saoirse sighed, rolling her eyes and trotting down the slope to join the other happy-go-lucky herd members. She gazed longingly at a few mares dancing with each other before groaning to herself and seeking out the fire-topped mountain.
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