This is why we can't have nice things.

there are no markings on her country roads no signs that show the way back home Silently Otem kicked herself for sounding like such a child. Oh hi? What sort of silly introduction was that? This mare wasn't here to talk to a kid. She was likely waiting for a date, or ... Well, Otem's mind couldn't really flesh out any more adult-like things that Sheba might be about to do, but she was sure that a mare as pretty as the pale unicorn before her had something better to do than make small talk. And so, Otem did her very best to appear as old and mature as possible. "The water is as weird as the rest of this place is." Otem began, trying to imply that she'd already been around the Rift, which was how she knew just how weird it was. Reaching back, the oak-leaf marked child let one of her wings fall and then rise, dumping water onto her back. Huffing as if exasperated (that was something adults did, right?) Otem looked back to Sheba. "It's like it doesn't want to help keep things clean. It won't wash anything off." Casually, Otem tried to gauge how she was doing. Adults complained all the time, especially about the weather and their surroundings, so on a scale from 1 - adult, Otem thought she was probably doing pretty good.

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