The Gates, Myrna replies, and the name rings bells in the angel's mind. Like Heaven's Gates...? Her ears quirk at the admission of preference, her pink-point lips quirking in a sensitive and earnest smile. Lillia watches as her new friend's gaze travels the rolling hills with the tenderness of a life-long partner, as though each blossom were in itself sacred to Golden-Smile. Lillia turns and gazes, too; finds it easy to imagine that she must truly feel the same way.
And just as Lillia goes to speak and share her own thoughts on the beauty of this land, Myrna tosses her blazened head and issues a challenge as whimsical as the blossoms adorning her mane.
"Last one there's a little imp!"
With a shrill whinny, the petite mare pins her ears and gives a frivolous, spirited buck as she rocks her momentum towards the Mother Tree. She wastes little time in unfurling her wings to their widest span - finally! - after months of resting in her burrow, a true gale in which to test her mettle. The rock-and-roll of her canter smooths to a full gallop, her head snaking into the wind to make full use of aerodynamics and the howling drafts of the storm. With total glee and a warm, constant awareness of her companion's position in relationship to her, Lillia feels the catch of the wind beneath her wings and bursts at speed into the air, her legs working beneath her as her wings flap and tuck, a mare playing in the invisible currents like a foal in her mother's thicket.
With the Mother Tree fast approaching, Lillia calls a taunting whinny to Myrna and dives for the finish line. She feels her muscles straining against the burst of wind from above and can't quite recall the last time she felt this alive; and with a great heave of her wings up against the current, she slows her momentum and, with five hasty wingbeats, alights on the earth as soft as can be.
"Whoo! What a thrill! And Gods, you're fast - I can't tell, did you beat me or I beat you?!" Lillia's voice rings sweet and harsh between blowing breaths, the exertion lending whiskey to her saccharine tone. She laughs. "Surely you must have practiced to be such a challenger. Have you brothers or sisters? I can imagine you playing with them much as you have with me..." Her voice trails off in gentle musing, her eyes cast above to the splendid cascading branches of the Mother Tree.
And just as Lillia goes to speak and share her own thoughts on the beauty of this land, Myrna tosses her blazened head and issues a challenge as whimsical as the blossoms adorning her mane.
"Last one there's a little imp!"
With a shrill whinny, the petite mare pins her ears and gives a frivolous, spirited buck as she rocks her momentum towards the Mother Tree. She wastes little time in unfurling her wings to their widest span - finally! - after months of resting in her burrow, a true gale in which to test her mettle. The rock-and-roll of her canter smooths to a full gallop, her head snaking into the wind to make full use of aerodynamics and the howling drafts of the storm. With total glee and a warm, constant awareness of her companion's position in relationship to her, Lillia feels the catch of the wind beneath her wings and bursts at speed into the air, her legs working beneath her as her wings flap and tuck, a mare playing in the invisible currents like a foal in her mother's thicket.
With the Mother Tree fast approaching, Lillia calls a taunting whinny to Myrna and dives for the finish line. She feels her muscles straining against the burst of wind from above and can't quite recall the last time she felt this alive; and with a great heave of her wings up against the current, she slows her momentum and, with five hasty wingbeats, alights on the earth as soft as can be.
"Whoo! What a thrill! And Gods, you're fast - I can't tell, did you beat me or I beat you?!" Lillia's voice rings sweet and harsh between blowing breaths, the exertion lending whiskey to her saccharine tone. She laughs. "Surely you must have practiced to be such a challenger. Have you brothers or sisters? I can imagine you playing with them much as you have with me..." Her voice trails off in gentle musing, her eyes cast above to the splendid cascading branches of the Mother Tree.