04-21-2015, 12:41 PM
 Fall is a cool reminder on her neck of another year gone by. In that year, she’d opened her heart to the very real possibility of love. She’d searched high and low for a part of her heart that went missing, leaving a burning gap in its wake. She’d strengthened ties, secured borders and planted herself further into the rocky soil of her home. Most importantly, she had created another life. She existed outside of her own body – a miracle she couldn’t deny. The year had been productive in many personal ways. Diplomatically, however, the Dale had floundered. This fact isn’t wholly their fault. The diplomats have been in a holding period ever since Tiphon left for missions elsewhere. Speaking for herself, Talulah doesn’t want to venture out and step on any toes. Other than a planned trip to the Tundra (as the first had been rather unsuccessful years ago), she doesn’t know where to focus her energies. Ultimately, it is the angel king’s call where they will align themselves. And his absence is highlighted when such issues arise. When they do, it’s never at a predictable time. The metal-mare is watching over her son as he samples grass for the first time. She doesn’t really know how to counsel him on his new diet (as she doesn’t eat herself), but she has watched the others enough to get the general idea. Don’t eat anything spiky. Avoid the ferns that grow by the trees. That’s okay, it’s just tall grass. It’s amusing to watch his reactions, and more than once, the dam has to steer him away from suckling. Ramiel is full and sleepy, leaning against his mother when they hear the whinny. Two sets of ears shoot up, startled from an otherwise quiet afternoon of learning and lounging. They walk quickly towards the border, the colt trailing just behind Talulah. It’s been so long since they’ve had a visitor, and thankfully, this one proves to be a polite one. She’s pretty with her light mane and dapples, and the smell of the Falls is strong on her skin. There’s something familiar about her that Talulah can’t place, something that speaks of a hidden fire that she can’t translate. She smiles anyway, eager to talk diplomacy again. “Welcome to the Dale, I’m Talulah.” And while the grey is friendly, she stops at allowing the stranger further into the kingdom until she knows more. These are lean times, defensively speaking, and even though politics are a thin protection, she will utilize them as best she can. The black colt steps up, his eyes roving over the unique markings on the woman’s legs before he meets her gaze. “I’m Ramiel. Is there anything we can help you with, miss?” lady of the Dale |
