Her eyes followed the other mare’s gaze to where Aislyn was currently stalking through the tall grasses in pursuit of one of the more active rabbits, and the pain that was written so clearly across her golden face was nearly palpable. Even before she says anything, her mind jumps to the correct conclusion. She has been lucky enough to have been spared the pain of losing a young child, but she can imagine it well enough, and the look that she wears is a sympathetic one. “I’m sorry,” she says as she steps from beneath the dappled light of the tree, and without thought or hesitation she brushes her muzzle against the younger girl’s cheek, taking the tear that had left a damp trail in its wake. “I’ve never lost a child that young, and I’m sorry that such a painful burden was placed on you.”
She listens, quiet and patient as the other continues, and even though there is a flicker of recognition in her eyes when she says immortality, nothing else registers on her pale white face. She waits until the golden mare is finished, before asking in her soft, curious manner, “What is it you are suppose to learn from them?” There is a pause, before another smile whispers at the edge of her lips and she admits, “I’ve been blessed, or cursed, with immortality, depending on how you view it. Perhaps I could help you?”
She touches her pale nose to the girl’s golden neck — after so many years in the dark, she had become accustomed to touching others to get a feel of where they were standing, or if there muscles sat rigid and tense beneath their skin, or to better draw in the scent of where they had been. Even with her newly gifted eyes, it was a habit that was hard to break, and it was with her lips resting delicately against her neck that she says, “My name is Ryatah, by the way.”
@[Izora Lethia]