anyone;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails With summer there will be autumn next. The seasons are ever changing out here and yet so very little in the Jungle. The humidity is everlasting but on some days isn't quite as severe. It's a climate that Nayl has adjusted to over the past couple years; that explains her sleek coat that lacks any inclination of a winter fuzz. Every kiss of the breeze is felt when lightly pressed to her skin. It's a fairly new sensation, or at least one that she hasn't felt in a while. She remembers standing here with mother, father, and Thorunn before departing back into the only home she has ever known. The memories replay on the back of her eyelids when she slowly blinks. Had she only been able to be close to him one last time. A fleeting grin flickers at his memory - his orange gaze burning into hers - but flattens when she hears looming footsteps. Assuming to have company in the new few moments Nayl lifts her head to be near eye level with the stallion. His calm demeanor doesn't affect her readiness though she masks it well behind relaxed, autumn eyes. "Nayl," she offers after a moment's pause. With few interactions with stallions she finds herself unusually quiet. Nothing else slips from her mouth as she watches him, scrutinizing every gesture and move he makes. Nayl covet and myrina's creation