12-12-2015, 04:52 PM
yael
Yael opens her proverbial arms to the broken, the abandoned, the distressed, and the weary. Her wild child was much like Siloam, if you care to look past the fangs and rotting flesh. Mothers were dead and gone, their speech skills were less than stellar, and while this colt didn’t seem as emotionally broken as Munroe had been, she imagines that his social skills will take awhile to get up to par. She releases the mice from her command as soon as it seems the colt has eaten his fill. Van arrives and as the boy answers his questions to the best of his ability, she materializes quietly at his side.
Yael is warmth and motherly love and all the good smells of the world. Caring, soft brown eyes look down at the boy and look past his undead flesh (though she secretly wonders what good it will do him to live in a land of sand) to see the lonely orphan in front of them. “Siloam,” she says. “I ahm Yael. T'is ees Vankish. Vould you like to come xome vit us?” And just in case he doesn’t understand what she means, she sends him an image of the three of them - herself, Vanquish, and Siloam, and then several other indistinguishable horse forms behind them. Home is more than herself and Van. Home is a kingdom - with friends and family.
Yael is warmth and motherly love and all the good smells of the world. Caring, soft brown eyes look down at the boy and look past his undead flesh (though she secretly wonders what good it will do him to live in a land of sand) to see the lonely orphan in front of them. “Siloam,” she says. “I ahm Yael. T'is ees Vankish. Vould you like to come xome vit us?” And just in case he doesn’t understand what she means, she sends him an image of the three of them - herself, Vanquish, and Siloam, and then several other indistinguishable horse forms behind them. Home is more than herself and Van. Home is a kingdom - with friends and family.