10-09-2015, 11:12 AM
Like the Falls, the Desert’s army is in a shambles. As in, aside from a magical battle in which the best offense is their defense, the Desert has… Gumby. And maybe Shah. Yael doesn’t know what the boy is capable of yet, but she is hopeful.
Spring is transitioning into summer, and Yael finds it far more pleasant outside of the Desert now. She has a terribly thin coat, due in part to heritage and a lifetime spent amongst saguaro and sand. But with changing of seasons, she is happy to emerge from a season-long hermitage. Her golden skin and silver mane and tail shine slightly in the moonlight, reflecting the glow when others would absorb it. With great, feathered wings pressed against her sides, she mingles amongst the newcomers with a slight smile glued on her face. She seems delicate and dainty and elegant, but there is a quiet strength hidden somewhere beneath that poised exterior. Queens had to have the sort of thing, and they tend to stick with you, even after the crown is passed on.
Yael doesn’t know Texas as well as she should, but when she approaches the group on the outskirts of the Filed, she murmurs a pleasant “Xello, Teksas, “ to the curmudgeonly stallion. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the scars that created a roadmap of the mare’s life across her skin. It was… colorful, to say the least. The golden woman briefly wonders if the Desert would be too quiet for her liking - but her steal was successful, they might be in for some interesting action. She's caught the mare's name, so there's no need to ask for it again. “Zylan. I ahm Yael. Velcome to B’kanna. Vhat breengs you to ze Field tonight?”
She knows, of course. But she’s found over the years that that sort of revelation upon first meeting a newcomer is off putting for most. So she likes them to explain, in their own time and their own words.
Spring is transitioning into summer, and Yael finds it far more pleasant outside of the Desert now. She has a terribly thin coat, due in part to heritage and a lifetime spent amongst saguaro and sand. But with changing of seasons, she is happy to emerge from a season-long hermitage. Her golden skin and silver mane and tail shine slightly in the moonlight, reflecting the glow when others would absorb it. With great, feathered wings pressed against her sides, she mingles amongst the newcomers with a slight smile glued on her face. She seems delicate and dainty and elegant, but there is a quiet strength hidden somewhere beneath that poised exterior. Queens had to have the sort of thing, and they tend to stick with you, even after the crown is passed on.
Yael doesn’t know Texas as well as she should, but when she approaches the group on the outskirts of the Filed, she murmurs a pleasant “Xello, Teksas, “ to the curmudgeonly stallion. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the scars that created a roadmap of the mare’s life across her skin. It was… colorful, to say the least. The golden woman briefly wonders if the Desert would be too quiet for her liking - but her steal was successful, they might be in for some interesting action. She's caught the mare's name, so there's no need to ask for it again. “Zylan. I ahm Yael. Velcome to B’kanna. Vhat breengs you to ze Field tonight?”
She knows, of course. But she’s found over the years that that sort of revelation upon first meeting a newcomer is off putting for most. So she likes them to explain, in their own time and their own words.
Yael, guardian of the desert