YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
Perhaps it had been because Aela had been forced to stay in one place during her foalhood that she defies by traveling as much as she can now.
She's the Seneschal of the Pampas but a title matters little to an aspiring goddess. What Aela wants is something so much bigger, a picture so much broader than mere territories or kingdoms, than just political games. That spark of destiny has always been there, the embers of her ambition glowing beneath her golden skin. The discontent in the South, the steals towards the West - these are just pastimes until she knows that her moment has come.
But until that moment comes, Aela takes advantage of her free time. She delves deeper and tries to understand the changes taking place within her. She practices her powers so that they come quicker, quieter, and then suddenly. There are still plans for the future and desires to be fulfilled but the slender palomino settles on this one: an easy one. She wanders away from the South and considers returning the Field. Another recruit for the growing Flower Court could make this journey more beneficial. But she's grown bored of stealing and the way it drains her abilities. Aela isn't entirely sure that she could even wear the facade of a good recruiter.
Not right now.
So she wanders through the Forest, mindlessly retracing the past like another horse might follow one of its well-worn paths. No, please don't. One memory from the past begs, with visceral fear sharpening the edges of it. Another memory is just soft laughter, something as warm and hazy as the summer day. And then there is something else, something usual that catches Aela's attention. There is someone nearby and the palomino stops, turning her blazed head towards the direction of the presence.
All the memories that Aela has encountered have always had some kind of emotion attached. It was the reason she was so timid as a child. They had been overwhelming and left the young filly reeling. They had left her afraid (until Heartfire had come and then her grandmother had asked why should she be afraid? Why shouldn't the others be afraid of her?) until she had mastered the echoes of the past. But there is something odd about the few glimpses that she senses from the blood-red mare that she now sees. They lack the emotions that often make the Echoes so vivid and vibrant; the feelings that bring them to life.
There are faces that Aela doesn't know but one stands out.
Reave.
Aela comes close enough that the other female would see her golden stripes glinting in the broken sunlight from the canopy above but she doesn't speak. Not yet. She instead projects a memory of Reave laughing in the dim cave in Nerine, his blue eyes flashing brilliantly as they schemed and decided to tempt dare the Fates in Beqanna.
@Mazikeen