The Academy: back when butter was hand churned?

Her daughter, the idea of the words resurrects old feelings of hatred and questions of why the child was alive- yet she’d take no action. For as disturbed as she may have been, here in the wintry ruins of the academy she’d offer no violence- only an apathetic and peaceless manifestation of herself. She however is aware of Nicodemus’s desire for student and the fact that she had already obtained two, Kaitos and Keira. It does not draw her away from the fiery stallion or the daughter, instead it brings her closer. She is but a still thing here, and when Palestine speaks she nods, the frankness of her display was cut, but not as she clears her throat. The rogue mare’s eyes watch the shadows, as she refocuses, the flowers around them (the ones that have withered) bloom and grow, full and beautiful they shiner through the white and gray. She’s barely focus getting to know her, simply mold her, and teach her to understand the power she has. Deranged as the mother may be, my Magdalena is a creature of consistency and of obscurity in her actions; she stops focusing, the flowers chilled and lingering.

“You see,” she begins, her mismatched eyes looking into the strangely beautiful eyes of her daughter; “simply focus, think and allow yourself to give in to the feelings of your heart.” she says it as if she had a heart, the fox-witch held a heart but sliced by daggers and blackened by corruption. Prior to this she’d been a silver who hunted after the very stone Andurien possessed… and here she was conversing about heart. “All the earth around you, creatures of it’s domain will abide to you, come if you call—“ she cuts off, forgetting the presence of Nicodemus, remembering as a glint of flame catches the corner of her eye. She does not act instinctively, instead she calls the earth beneath his feet, grass and vines blossoming and rising up around him- she grins; “focus for a moment, ask the earth around you to send you one of it’s own.” She is still, expectant and waiting, the grass and vines stopping at Nicodemus’s knees.