[private] I'm no sweet dream but I'm one hell of a night: Star pony

[Aela]

Aela continues to walk ahead, letting her hips softly swing from one side to another, while she listens to the stranger explain that her journey had been mostly uneventful. How disappointing, she thinks. If the liver chestnut had endured something terrible, or experienced something truly terrifying, it would have been an easy enough thing for the Empath to pick up on. There is something lurking beneath the spotted woman that does intrigue Aela though, and that is better than being bored in Taiga’s smothering darkness.

The slender palomino moved deeper towards the heart of the Northern forest.

Not running, she hears as one delicate ear remains tipped back to the other horse. Her earlier intuition that there was more to this creature than just being a nomad finally paid off when Indi revealed that she had once belonged to Beqanna. So this was no true newcomer, but somebody who might have been alive when the Gates of the Afterlife had been opened, or perhaps even further back, to the Reckoning.

Or perhaps even longer.

Time worked differently outside their realm and as Aela continued to move through the shadows between the trees, her mind briefly contemplated the different calamities that had happened over the centuries. ”Did you?” she says, her voice lilting and inviting the chestnut mare to say more. Her golden companion even slows enough to feign interest, glancing over to the other with wide, curious blue eyes. ”We’ve had many changes over the last few years,” Aela continues to explain. ”An Eclipse that brought monsters with a taste for horseflesh, and the South,” she pauses, studying Indi to see if the reference would make any sense to her, gauging her reaction for a sign of what era she might have belonged to, ”An entire kingdom recently sank below the sea.”

Her voice remains even, not struggling over the reference, and Aela considers this a sign; this is a return to who she had once been.

”What do you last remember?” she asks her companion with a tilt of that pretty head, as if they were trading treasured foalhood memories instead of calamities and disasters, pressing the slightest bit of curiosity into the stranger simply because she could.