11-06-2015, 01:54 PM
Ohhhh, Yael has all the time in the world; some days she feels it, and some days she doesn’t. Some days the world seems just as beautiful as the first day she’d gained her magic. Somedays it seems like if the sun never rose for the next day, she would be perfectly fine with that as well. Resentment blooms every now and then, and then dies fairly soon after. Immortality without responsibility, without the power to do anything they want, well… that must be rather dull after awhile. The earth is a fascinating place - but the liveliness of the seas and the sereme songs of the cosmos are something that she could easily lose herself in for several decades or so.
It irritated her to no end the that Desert has once again gone silent; like a couple grains of sand stuck in one’s eye, or the constant tickling before a sneeze, it needles and pokes at her until she snorts in frustration and takes to the skies on her gilded wings. Yael knows exactly where she is going, too. Back to the field. Now, she has no shame in scanning the wanderers for potential. The golden woman does it quickly, silently, with hopefully nothing to give her cursory glances away. Some she dismisses outright, and others she tucks away for further consideration. And then there are twins and - oh. Oh.
Tears almost spring to her eyes at the thought of Kagerou. The little Desert woman had loved the Amazonian Queen and the one that came after her, very dearly. It always hung heavy on her conscious that some of the leopard mare’s doom was due to the War. If only… ah, she had so many ‘if onlys.’ One she is working on, but the others she must lay to rest. The only thing is that that one needs some preparation, something to have give it an extra push of momentum. On fluffy feathers, she takes an easy descent, landing her fine-boned body near the trio. Aside from coloring, she is very much in contrast to Magnus, being delicate and dainty and carrying an inherent grace from all that Queen business so long ago. Her silver mane and tail are windblown, giving the Guardian a sort of devil-may-care beauty.
Warm, cinnamon brown eyes light up when she takes a couple of steps toward them, an easy and genuine expression on her face. With a cordial, but slight nod to Magnus (oh she knows of him, and approves very much of his efforts to rebuild the Gates - in fact, she makes a mental note to visit them soon and see her grandson), she introduces herself. “And I ahm Yael. Xello. Velcome back to B’kanna.” She lets it slip out - it is always something she means to do, it is never by accident.
Nevertheless, it lets them know that she knows - and that she has at least some sort of power. Perhaps they will be drawn to that sort of thing.
It irritated her to no end the that Desert has once again gone silent; like a couple grains of sand stuck in one’s eye, or the constant tickling before a sneeze, it needles and pokes at her until she snorts in frustration and takes to the skies on her gilded wings. Yael knows exactly where she is going, too. Back to the field. Now, she has no shame in scanning the wanderers for potential. The golden woman does it quickly, silently, with hopefully nothing to give her cursory glances away. Some she dismisses outright, and others she tucks away for further consideration. And then there are twins and - oh. Oh.
Tears almost spring to her eyes at the thought of Kagerou. The little Desert woman had loved the Amazonian Queen and the one that came after her, very dearly. It always hung heavy on her conscious that some of the leopard mare’s doom was due to the War. If only… ah, she had so many ‘if onlys.’ One she is working on, but the others she must lay to rest. The only thing is that that one needs some preparation, something to have give it an extra push of momentum. On fluffy feathers, she takes an easy descent, landing her fine-boned body near the trio. Aside from coloring, she is very much in contrast to Magnus, being delicate and dainty and carrying an inherent grace from all that Queen business so long ago. Her silver mane and tail are windblown, giving the Guardian a sort of devil-may-care beauty.
Warm, cinnamon brown eyes light up when she takes a couple of steps toward them, an easy and genuine expression on her face. With a cordial, but slight nod to Magnus (oh she knows of him, and approves very much of his efforts to rebuild the Gates - in fact, she makes a mental note to visit them soon and see her grandson), she introduces herself. “And I ahm Yael. Xello. Velcome back to B’kanna.” She lets it slip out - it is always something she means to do, it is never by accident.
Nevertheless, it lets them know that she knows - and that she has at least some sort of power. Perhaps they will be drawn to that sort of thing.
Yael, guardian of the desert