It’s been a while since she has been alone with a child. Years, in fact. And it had been different then because those children had been hers (and as time passed, her grandchildren). Aletta looks down at the little girl, recounting the moments that have led to the years since she has last tried to comfort one.
A mother five times over, the urge to soothe comes easily enough. It’s just that the golden filly takes a step back when Aletta tries to come forward and is reminded each time that this is not a child of her bloodline. That really, this shouldn’t be any of her concern. It’s not her responsibility.
The gray mare sighs and lifts her head, looking to the deepening shadows of the treeline for some sign of a guardian. There is only the chirping of crickets and darkening shades that indicate the day is ending for company. Her dark eyes try to pierce the darkness but there is nothing to find. Aletta sighs, glancing down to the little blonde girl who has stood stoically still. It would have been admirable, if the gray mare wasn’t seeing it in one so young. What was she going to do?
The girl wouldn’t let her to come closer and Aletta couldn’t leave her.
"Can you give me a name, sweeting?” she tries again, taking on the tone that she had often used with Tarian and Liam. The girl says nothing, just stares up with those wide blue eyes.
('Aela’, the girl had thought. But who heard her?)
The girl follows by tossing her slender head but no words come. The motion offers no insight to a name or a parent or a clue to where she belongs.
Glancing towards the west, the sun sinks lowers behind the trees and the clearing becomes haloed in varying shades of red and gold. The foal visibly calms when she looks over her shoulder, revealing a blue woman who appeared illuminated despite the dusk. Aletta assumes at first that this must be the girl's mother and there is a verbal lashing waiting for her, when she comes close enough to hear it.
She’s wrong, though. While there is familiarity in the glance between the blue-eyed mare and the gold-barred filly, Aletta thinks that the approaching mare has as much claim to the girl as she does. The other mare speaks and the former Regent can feel her cool expression darken with distrust.
Aletta doesn’t look at the girl again. Had she been a ploy? Everything about this encounter feels, as @[Heartfire] indicated, deliberate. Expected. She bristles with anger and it sparks behind her almost black eyes. The former Regent - always direct - would rather know, "why?"
we turned our back on ordinary from the start
photo credit to charlie---x