04-05-2015, 11:10 PM
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away. But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play. She is pleased but not surprised when Snow makes her choice. After all, Librette couldn't really see why anyone would ever want to live anywhere else. The awkward girl waits politely for her new countrywoman to finish her pleasantries, and then it is time to go. With a glance at Snow, excitement in her eyes, she flexes her red-gold hawk's wings and takes to the skies. The flight to the Valley is a fairly short one, but highly scenic. Librette keeps a discreet eye on Snow, making sure that the other woman does not become lost as they travel. She intends to keep her pace level, to avoid dipping and weaving – but she's never had a flight friend, and dammit, she just can't help herself. After a little longer than strictly necessary (and she already feels guilty about that, she's taken time away from the Valley that she didn't need to take) they land within the borders of their home. Librette knows that Eight has felt the new arrival; it's no secret that the magician's own magic has intertwined with that of the Valley, and that quite literally no stone can be turned without his knowledge. But he is a busy man, and perhaps he will not join them today. Perhaps they will be alone for now, or perhaps not. Tucking her wings back to her sides, Librette gives Snow a moment to explore her surroundings. The Valley was only recently a hotbed of volcanic activity, and it shows. The ground is studded with magma, and many trees have been lost, But spring has come again, and the land is regrowing, perhaps a bit more quickly with Eight here (he'd been the one to do the destroying, after all). And no matter what it is still a land of tremendous beauty – well, at least to those like Librette. Would Snow see it? She hopes so. Her unremarkable tail flicks across ordinary haunches as she looks toward her new countrywoman (friend?) and watches her reaction. This would probably be a good time to welcome her, or to comment on some aspect of what the Valley is. It's a moment for speeches, to say something epic. But this is Librette. She's terrible at epic, even when it has to do with the Valley. "This is a really great place for wings." she says, knowing how the air currents waft upward, how a horse can be carried. She'd been given her wings here, reborn with them by the Valley itself, and she'd trained here. She'd fallen out of the sky and onto many horses here. And elsewhere, but that's not relevant right now. She looks to the mare again, trying to think of how to put into words everything that the Valley means to her. But there's too much – she can't do it, she could never do it, and so she hopes, perhaps, that the silence speaks for her. The silence, and one sentence that is spoken with so much weight that she hopes it communicates her meaning. "I really hope you like it here, Snow." And for once, she falls silent at the right time, her brown eyes on the newcomer, wondering what she's thinking of her new home. Don't weep for me LIBRETTEBecause this will be the labor of my love.
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