Asking her where she’s been is like asking why the sky is blue. It just is, although there’s a more scientific answer for it just as there is for her sudden disappearance. Bean just doesn’t know what it is because she doesn’t think about it. Like ever, or at all. She does think about those left behind in the lurch. Those first few amazing forays into friendship that she hopes against hope she hasn’t ruined.
Blue. Ghoul. Oceane & Leilan. Clegane.
The latter she thinks about the most, almost as if it is a crush that has blossomed in her breast like a tiny sweet flower struggling against the influx of Bean’s much greater and sillier emotions. She strains towards the place of their meeting - the meadow, as if it is somehow the most familiar place to her but all the common lands were. She traipsed through without further regard to finding an actual place to put roots down in like a good Bean should.
She also thinks a lot about Blue. Couldn’t forget him either. He’s become like her bestest friend in a short amount of time and she might have had a small crush on him too. Ghoul also wasn’t far from her thoughts, her Big Bad Buddy that she missed dearly. Oh god, how had he fared in her absence without her there to collect food for him?! Bean was struck with terrible visions of a starved toothy giant of a stallion and her heart nearly broke itself on her rib cage in guilt and horror.
She needed to find each of them unless they found her first. A game, of sorts that she wasn’t too keen to play but she couldn’t split herself into multiples to find them faster. But how neat would that be? Actually probably pretty terrifying - nobody would want multiple Beans running amuck and that’s exactly what would happen too! This tiny drab brown tricksy terror causing all kinds of trouble and trailing laughter everywhere like it was stardust and wishes.
The shoulds and shouldn’ts that Bean ought to do just don’t occur. She blows into the meadow like a bat straight outta hell: snorting, stamping her small feet, nostrils flaring, eyes wild and so much brown, from head to hoof. It takes her a moment to settle down, circling around a small winter-bare spot that just gets muddied up by snow-runoff and Bean’s hysterical trampling.
She finally calms down, blowing just once or twice more through her flared nostrils and flinging the hair up out of her eyes to better see the land and horses in front of her. Bean decides to wait, except she’s never been real good at that. It was like finding a drop of rain in the ocean, her patience and it tended to evaporate just as quickly. All too soon, Bean was stretched out in one of the smooth common gaits of her breed and just tolting around all over the place because like a live wire, she twitched too much if she just stood still.