12-18-2015, 10:28 AM
Yael is a protector; one of those damn goody-two-shoes that the Chamber and Valley love to complain about. She takes in the orphans and the wild ones and tames them with a gentle hand and loving soul. She heals – the best of her ability – and hopes that one day their healed wings bring them back to her again. The little golden woman does far more than that, of course, but you wouldn’t know it just by looking at her.
The smell of blood breaks her conversation with the stars, nostrils flaring and eyes wide. Very rarely is there blood in the Field, unless there’s been a fight, and she hasn’t heard any challenges lately. The predators that lurk in the forest areas never come here, as there are simply too many horses to give them an easy meal. The foals are well guarded, and she has a hunch that the recruiters would work together to drive off any real threat. So that telltale tang of blood means that someone is hurt. Terror quickly follows, making the stranger a figurative beacon for the magical woman. She turns her head to gaze into the darkness, and then breaks into a brisk trot, metallic wings pressed closely against her sides.
The moon, full and heavy with white light slips out from behind the clouds, illuminating the area. Yael shines ever so subtly under the moon’s rays, picking her way around the half-sleeping, half-whispering little groups that dot the area. When she finds the mare prostrate on the ground, she whickers a low and concerned greeting. Her head dips down to be at the other’s level, and she murmurs softly. “Xello dear.. . ahr you xurt? I can xelp you…” She offers the scared one a gentle smile, trying to reassure her that Yael is indeed safe.
The smell of blood breaks her conversation with the stars, nostrils flaring and eyes wide. Very rarely is there blood in the Field, unless there’s been a fight, and she hasn’t heard any challenges lately. The predators that lurk in the forest areas never come here, as there are simply too many horses to give them an easy meal. The foals are well guarded, and she has a hunch that the recruiters would work together to drive off any real threat. So that telltale tang of blood means that someone is hurt. Terror quickly follows, making the stranger a figurative beacon for the magical woman. She turns her head to gaze into the darkness, and then breaks into a brisk trot, metallic wings pressed closely against her sides.
The moon, full and heavy with white light slips out from behind the clouds, illuminating the area. Yael shines ever so subtly under the moon’s rays, picking her way around the half-sleeping, half-whispering little groups that dot the area. When she finds the mare prostrate on the ground, she whickers a low and concerned greeting. Her head dips down to be at the other’s level, and she murmurs softly. “Xello dear.. . ahr you xurt? I can xelp you…” She offers the scared one a gentle smile, trying to reassure her that Yael is indeed safe.