08-22-2015, 05:46 AM
Wayra did not like the birds either, though she would be loath to tell anyone. She has picked up, from snatches of conversation here and there, that they are the queens birds, and therefore not to be loathed. It had been hard for her, to wander more than a little ways from her father. He was, after all, the whole reason she had come here. If she wasn’t to be near him, then why not be somewhere pretty and pleasant? There was something about these trees, something about the birds, and something about the eerie way the Chamber beat beneath her hooves.
The whole place was watching her. She was quite certain of it.
That was just another thing was was determined not to say. She was also determined that she would leave her father’s side today, if only for a little while. She needed a walk, and certainly he needed space. What was it that children did to their fathers? Cramp their style? Yes, that was it.
Wayra shook her head in frustration. She wasn’t even a child! Why could she not remember that? She regarded herself skeptically. At three years old she was a mare, but she saw very little indication of it. How did one be an adult? It was a worry that had plagued her ever since she had stood on that precipice, had straddled the line between her childhood and her adulthood.
Her sister certainly had no problem crossing that line. They were nearly the very same age, yet Nebibi had struck out on her own. She had been excited to go. Wayra didn’t understand, though she wished she did.
Her thinking had been very cyclical recently. Adulthood, family, future, destiny. They had swirled around and around until Wayra was sure she would scream with frustration. The only blessing was that she was so distracted by her own troubles that she had been too busy to worry about the potentially dangerous place she had taken up residence. She had only been here a short while, but nothing bad had happened. Nobody had set upon her like a punishing angel. Slowly, she came to realize that perhaps she had allowed herself to be too led by Meadow gossip. It was another thing she was coming to terms with. You couldn’t always trust the things whispered in the Meadow.
For all her thinking Wayra had come to no conclusions save that one. She needed a little space, a little time not to think. Wayra was very good at thinking, at least thinking cyclically. Not thinking was nearly as hard and thinking. But, before she could be allowed to puzzle this futile train of thought, a boy burst from the trees.
Good heavens. She thought.
Is someone finally going to get those blasted birds? Her pace quickened, excited by the thought of victory for the horses. She broke into a trot, then a canter and then a gleeful gallop. She raced towards him, poised to revel in his glory.
But no, it was not meant to be.
She almost succeed in keeping the disappointment from her voice when she spoke.
“You very nearly caught them I think. Yes,” she said determinedly, pointing with her nose,
“I think that one’s feathers are bent.” She couldn't be sure of course, but she willed herself to see some small victory and did. After a moment she looked back to the boy, suddenly shy. She had been swept away with the excitement of the chase, and now felt the unwelcome wave of reserve return. After a moment she spoke again, a little hesitantly.
“I’m Wayra.” Would she think her strange? Would he be angry that she joined his game without being asked or invited? Wayra bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to let the discomfort show on her face.
Wayra
not all who wander are lost