It had been a surprise to see Kota again.
While not an unpleasant one, it had left Aela with lingering questions. There was no denying the swelling of her sides that proclaimed there would be another sibling come spring. Perhaps it's because she is used to being the youngest, she muses. Perhaps it because she has never met Let and has always assumed the role of an only child.
And while there are many more things for Aela to worry about at present, she can't help but come back to the gnawing question of why. (As far as Aela can tell, she is perfection and can't quite understand why her mother would want to face the risk of a lesser creation. But the near-palomino tells herself that she will help with this younger sibling, that she will help it find a purpose even if it will never eclipse Aela. As Heartfire had once reminded her, even ants had their purpose.)
She had sent Skandar out some time ago. They had gone to the flaming tree (that was no longer burning) and when they had parted ways, it only seemed to make sense that the creator would go out seeking the new creatures that stalked and prowled across Beqanna. So many were already terrified of them and the pair looked to take advantage of that. Terror was a platform for chaos and that was an element that both Aela and Skandar thrived.
There is little light. Aela makes her way from Pangea the best she can but the lack of sun is as much of a hindrance as it is a boon. She was curious about the monsters that so many were murmuring about but only in a controlled setting, only if she had some kind of support to go along with her overwhelming memories (and that posed the question if those things could even feel?)
Aela had meant to travel to Hyaline out of curiosity. Had the group of shifters noticed the creatures? Were they attempting to replicate them and feast on the chaos? Did they run from them? The striped filly meant to linger at the border and hopefully stumble across a Hyalean or two that might reveal something of what the skinwalkers made of these exciting times. But she gets lost and as she gazes across the shadows of the Meadow, she knows this is not Hyaline. She hasn't traveled far at all, she realizes with an annoyed huff and an inquiring lift of her blazed head.
Something comes creeping by and Aela instinctively responds by broadcasting a memory: the clicks of the armored aliens in Pangea as they sang to each other during a hunt. The magical blasts coming in varying shades of gray and vibrant orange as parts of Nerine imploded into small, granite bits. The dark oil-slick of the creatures as they lingered in the woods, the eerie yellow-glow of their waiting eyes.
Aela flicks an ear back and angles her head behind her, waiting to see if the lurker had fled.
@[Gale]