She is quiet as she picks her way through the delicate shrubbery as though they are poisoned thorns. The bay does not want to disrupt the forest as it has seemed to existed forever without the presence of the young mare. Her dark eyes are fleeting and observant as she watches the squirrels and deer carry on.

(invisible)

Without her armor, she is immortal. That should have been a consolidation...a comfort. Something switched in Vakarian when the reckoning swallowed them up and spat them out. She was left mangled emotionally, meek where she once was loud. What had broken? The steely features so not change as they hide behind the porcelain doll's mask. Vaka gives her head a hard shake as the thoughts began to overwhelm her and she needed to be rid of them.

(you need a distraction)

the words are whispered sweetly in her head. Vaka absentmindedly nods in agreement. It felt good to feel a cool mist of morning dew tangling in her mane. The sisters seemed to be enamored by their love for the Jungle that no longer existed. Vaka needed to be away from the sharp tongues and flashing teeth. The ugly looks and cutting words. She can feel herself breath in the forest with clean lungs and hopeful eyes. Beqanna had been abused enough. Vaka only wished there was a away for the jaded eyes of the unforgiving women to see the vastness of their new home, the potential that they had been blessed with.

Vakarian is not sure why her puzzle piece edges just do not seem to fit in with the rest. Perhaps it is because she is not one of the 'original' sisters. Perhaps it is because she does not have jungle blood coursing in her veins. Vaka can not simply put her thumb on it.

Dark eyes catch a familiar sight wafting through the tangles of the forest but it brings a smile to her face (perhaps the first of it's kind since the Reckoning). The mare of mist and storm clouds calls to her with the gentlest of tones, the softest of eyes. Vaka can not help but return with one of her own grins. "Djinni." The tones are soft after she moves to close the space between them as the darkness of her muzzle is extended to greet to the familiar face.

"It's not the salt air for I feel the sea beckons me but-" she hesitates as her gaze flickers away like a flash of heat lightening. "I just don't feel like one of them." The confession comes forward almost too quickly and it steals her breath long before she is able to trap the words between gritted teeth. Vaka had feared that she would be ashamed but instead she feels lifted from the burden keeping her silence. "And you Djinni? Still on your way around the mountain?" Vaka finds herself genuinely interested in the tinkling words. This woman was her own mistress and Vaka admired that in the other. Curiosity and hope brim in the depths of her amber eye as she awaits the others reply.

The physical contact from the gray mare is not startling but welcomed. How long had it been since Vakarian had been touched? Not in a perverted sense but to reach out and actually feel another. A smile responds without thought as she listens to the wise woman.

Lobes are forward and curious as she listens. Djinni mentions how the past is not so easily washed away and The dark eyes of Vaka widen noticeably. "That is what I have been saying." The words are
spoken in a harsh whisper as it feels like the granite mare is reading her mind. Vaka's largest fear for Nerine was they they would squabble and peck at one another and not remember or give thanks for their home. Vaka was scared they would repeat themselves if no one acknowledged the gifts given to them by the faeries.

A soft sigh exits her lift as her gaze flicks away but it returns with a smile when Djinni makes her exclamation of jumping in the sea than climbing the mountain again. Vaka had made the journey previously and laughs as she remembers her own tribulations. "I did, Djinni. My diamond armor was taken back." Vaka peaks matter-of-factually while unknowingly straightening herself in response to the vulnerability she felt from  her lake of armor.

"Where do you come from, Djinni?" The question could be interpreted as rude but there is nothing but curiosity in the dark eyes of the bay woman. The delicate gray was so much different than any other horse Vaka had met and she hoped that the other would indulge her in a little conversation. One could benefit from a little chat outside their homeland.

The cinnamon woman watches the gray with bright and curious eyes. It had seemed so long since Vaka had met another interested in simple conversation. So many horses had expelled so much energy in the race to carve out a home. So many spent too much precious breath on talking and not enough listening. It was maddening at times for the bay woman. yes, she was gifted with a trait. Her armor made her unique and different but it would come in time...when Beqanna desired her to have it. In the mean time, Vaka learned to survive without it.

The woman that Djinni offer are few and fleeting but they answer the inquiry in a perfectly shaped package. Vaka finds herself enjoying the others company and the simplistic nature of their conversation. There are no hard looks or nasty tongues like in Nerine and this time and in this space  with Djinni was simply refreshing.

The dark eyes soften as she smiles as she begins to relax visibly. "Well I believe it is because I had nowhere else to go." The words flutter from the tip of her tongue as a bit of shy embarrassment replaces the look of comfort. Vaka shifts slightly from one hoof to the other in response to her feelings with a small laugh. "Simple as that I suppose, Djinni." Her gaze rests on the other with a slightly sheepish grin. "And you, my friend?" The question is of course the most natural thing to say. It would be nice to get past formalities eventually. As the words are offered, Vaka looks to the gold bands on the mare's feet ankles with interest before perking up with- "and those? How did you get those?" A wide grin of curiosity brightens her features. They were the prettiest things she had ever seen.