[Sophia knows this name, as sweet as summer. It lures her out in hesitant, shivering hops to approach the nose of the little pony, her ears flicking back and forth in indecision before she sits back on her long hind legs.]
I know you.
[Another Omen, another bit of soul-stuff intermixed with celestial magics, a part of and apart from their Sleepers. The presence of another is a balm against the fever. She presses up, paws outstretched, and touches the horse's muzzle.]
I am afflicted, sister. [She tells her, small and woeful.] I am beset by flames.
no subject
I know you.
[Another Omen, another bit of soul-stuff intermixed with celestial magics, a part of and apart from their Sleepers. The presence of another is a balm against the fever. She presses up, paws outstretched, and touches the horse's muzzle.]
I am afflicted, sister. [She tells her, small and woeful.] I am beset by flames.