Rhosyn wasn’t the type to lose sight of her children. She is a caring mother that want’s the best for her offspring. Sure she might have been stern sometimes and didn’t shy away from rebuking her children, but she loved them dear. Glenwing, Faolin, Dalamar, Kellin and Zokora, all named after fantasy creatures and story characters. And all raised in the Tundra, where the black mare had served her King brother and King nephew. But things wouldn’t be like that for Noroëlle, her youngest. She lost the newborn dark girl out of sight during her little nap on their trip back to the Tundra and by the time she gave up her search her voice was all hoarse from the constant screaming for her little girl. And all Rhosyn can hope for is that someone will find the little girl and raise her to be a fine lady.
Her stomach growls loudly and Noroëlle cannot help but to look around desperately. She calls out, her voice shrill and high. Panic and loneliness settle in, as her mother seems to be gone without leaving any traces. The small girl wanders around the Den, with only the fairies to keep her company. Calming words are uttered and the wind that sometimes grazes her skin remind her of her mother’s gentle touches.
It are the same fairies that guide her towards the border of the Den, pushing her in the direction that leads to the meadow. Like they told her she had to go that way to find her mother. Her aby blue eyes are slightly wide as she hesitantly steps forward, but soon she is lured. It are no longer the encouraging fairies that drive her forward, no, there is someone pulling her in that direction.
”Mommy!” she exclaims loudly, a wide and relieved grin appearing upon her black and white face. The black sabino girl dashes forward, ears pointing in the golden mare’s direction and blue eyes sparking with unshed (relieved) tears.
Her stomach growls loudly and Noroëlle cannot help but to look around desperately. She calls out, her voice shrill and high. Panic and loneliness settle in, as her mother seems to be gone without leaving any traces. The small girl wanders around the Den, with only the fairies to keep her company. Calming words are uttered and the wind that sometimes grazes her skin remind her of her mother’s gentle touches.
It are the same fairies that guide her towards the border of the Den, pushing her in the direction that leads to the meadow. Like they told her she had to go that way to find her mother. Her aby blue eyes are slightly wide as she hesitantly steps forward, but soon she is lured. It are no longer the encouraging fairies that drive her forward, no, there is someone pulling her in that direction.
”Mommy!” she exclaims loudly, a wide and relieved grin appearing upon her black and white face. The black sabino girl dashes forward, ears pointing in the golden mare’s direction and blue eyes sparking with unshed (relieved) tears.
OOC: If it's okay with you, I'd like Roëlle to think of Harmonia as her mother (and Surgery as her twinbrother?)