Aela minds everything. She has to. If she comes to close to some unsuspecting soul, they could overwhelm her with a fearful memory - of the reason why they run. Come to close to a lone mare and the loss in her eyes could reveal something more - the absence of a child could echo out. Encounter a spirit filled or fueled by anger, she might receive something more than a striking blow. The anger manifesting could reveal itself as something more than just bared teeth.
It’s why the golden filly avoids crowds. It is why she keeps to herself.
(And really, does it matter? A lone yearling is barely cause for concern. She isn’t at the age yet where her curves might attract attention. Too old to linger at the hips of her milk-mother and still too young for anything else.)
If Aela had a better understanding of who she was - or what she was born from - perhaps she would have known better than to wander this Forest alone. She has been told many times that she is protected in the North. She is safe in the North. As an adolescent, all she hears is being told what to do. That she has to stay in Taiga. What she is being protected or kept safe from doesn’t cross her mind. The golden yearling has her own mind and it had told her to venture out of the Redwoods today.
The sunlight warming her hide seems to agree with her, even when Aela peers hesitantly through the brush. She isn’t sure what to expect but the least of her expectations is him. The bay colt who squeals at something (Aela thinks she sees the silver-grey twirl of a bushy tail, a squirrel?) makes her blue eyes narrow.
He reminds her of Wherewolf, with all his stomping and irritation.
The yearling emerges from the greenery so that he might see her. She wants no surprises from him and her still growing flaxen tail swishes between her hocks as Aela comes to a stop. The filly lifts her head, glancing in his direction. She wonders briefly if his antics have something to with the scurrying rodent and it reminds of her a pair of red-tail hawks she saw sitting on a branch, perhaps watching for a meal. It’s something that he might see too - at least a shimmer or feather of the memory - if he comes close enough.
Her head tilts inquisitively, like she expects that he will.
It’s why the golden filly avoids crowds. It is why she keeps to herself.
(And really, does it matter? A lone yearling is barely cause for concern. She isn’t at the age yet where her curves might attract attention. Too old to linger at the hips of her milk-mother and still too young for anything else.)
If Aela had a better understanding of who she was - or what she was born from - perhaps she would have known better than to wander this Forest alone. She has been told many times that she is protected in the North. She is safe in the North. As an adolescent, all she hears is being told what to do. That she has to stay in Taiga. What she is being protected or kept safe from doesn’t cross her mind. The golden yearling has her own mind and it had told her to venture out of the Redwoods today.
The sunlight warming her hide seems to agree with her, even when Aela peers hesitantly through the brush. She isn’t sure what to expect but the least of her expectations is him. The bay colt who squeals at something (Aela thinks she sees the silver-grey twirl of a bushy tail, a squirrel?) makes her blue eyes narrow.
He reminds her of Wherewolf, with all his stomping and irritation.
The yearling emerges from the greenery so that he might see her. She wants no surprises from him and her still growing flaxen tail swishes between her hocks as Aela comes to a stop. The filly lifts her head, glancing in his direction. She wonders briefly if his antics have something to with the scurrying rodent and it reminds of her a pair of red-tail hawks she saw sitting on a branch, perhaps watching for a meal. It’s something that he might see too - at least a shimmer or feather of the memory - if he comes close enough.
Her head tilts inquisitively, like she expects that he will.
AELA
she had a marvelous time ruining everything
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@[Meyer]