She’s not left standing on her own for long - a fact that she is immediately thankful for. There are others in the meadow, of course, but they’re distant from her. Movement in the snow closer to where she stands causes her head to snap forward. Someone is coming over!! She already feels a rush of excitement, a rush of pure happiness course through her. The simple idea of not being alone, even for a couple moments, is intoxicating and she’s doing her very best not to fidget or start dancing right where she stands. She has the enthusiasm of a young puppy meeting a new friend and if she’s not careful, she’d get the whole body wiggle going on.
Isilya manages, she hopes, to appear like a normal, calm, adult as the stallion approaches before stopping before her. She likes him already. Not that it takes much for her to like someone that quickly - a grin and an absence of harsh words does the trick and she’s treated with both of those from him. He comments that it's not the best weather to be out and about in and, of course, she agrees with him wholeheartedly.
“No, perhaps not. But I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She says this with an airy smile - doing her best to distance herself from the hollow sadness she feels when she thinks about just how directionless she is at this time in her life. She’s lived a lifetime, really, but that was somewhere else.
It might as well have never happened.
Enough of that silliness, though! Isilya get your act together. There’s someone new standing near you! More than standing near the tree, the presence of someone else revitalizes Isilya. She could, and has, lost herself in a forest for years but nothing makes her feel more alive than conversation.
Isilya will always get herself acquainted with the earth and plants in any land so she knows that the only way for Beqanna to feel like home for her is to make friends, to root herself in relationships with others. Of all the things she has seen and experienced in her life, that is the one thing she misses the most and the one thing she really has never experienced fully. When was the last time she made a friend that was another flesh and blood equine and not a stag or a cardinal within the woods?
So, that airy smile turns sunny as she focuses on the cremello stallion before her.
“But, if I wasn’t out in this chilly weather, I wouldn’t have been here to meet you!” The wind still has bite to it but already Isilya isn’t focusing on it as much as she was before. Her voice is soft and warm, a voice that is more accustomed to singing and speaking to animals smaller than herself or coaxing a diseased plant back to life.
“I’m Isilya.” She offers next, that smile still bright in her hazel eyes - encouraging him to share his name. She wants to dance forward, to press her muzzle to his and wrap him up in a hug. All the ways she used to greet others, strangers or familiar friends, when she was young. But life taught her hesitation and self-doubt so she remains where she stands, letting her words bridge the distance between them instead.
soft and sweet |
