03-09-2016, 10:02 AM
yael
Yael hasn’t made it a habit to visit the Valley, mostly because they were usually at odds with each other, and even if she wanted to disguise herself and mingle freely (with only the best of intentions, on her honor), Eight would have known she was there. The two kingdoms had been on reasonably good terms when Camrynn held the throne, but she does not hold any illusions that the goodwill continued when their… personal relationships sank beneath the sands. If it were anyone else, Yael would have politely declined the invitation - but it’s difficult to get mad at someone for being in your kingdom when they have a personal invitation from the King himself. Anyway, this visit isn’t for reconnaissance or to be nosy. It’s ‘friendly.’ Or as close as friendly as she can come to when the drums of war beat in the background.
“Of course, eet vould be my pleasure” she says simply and falls into step with the two of them. It isn’t long before the conversation picks up again, and a smile quirks the corner of her lips. She glances over to Demian, and then back to Chalmette. “T’ank you. I ahm from a land called Tzion… eet ees ze ancestral xome of my tribe.” She pauses briefly, no more than a few paces, and then soldiers on through a story that has lost most of its pain by now. “Somet’ing xappened vhen I vas a girl. T’ere vas a fire, ahnd…. everyvone died except me. My fazer got me out. Ahnd t’en I ran and ran and ran and ended up xere. Ahnd a very nice voman took me under xer care een ze Desert.”
Yael ruffles her wings, remembering the day she got them, and then the day she could maintain them on her own. The women here were fifty times stronger than the women of her tribe, they knew liberties previously only afforded to men. Sure, there were female Rabbis, and some of the elder mares were highly respected, but on the whole, stallions were in control. It blewYael’s mind; and then it empowered her. “T’ey all took me een, showed me a vorld I could never dream of - ve xad no mageec, no idea t’at ve could be any more t’an a mate and mozer…” She chuckles incredulously. Yael has held tightly to some traditions from her past, trying to give her children names in her language, trying to get them to call her Imma and their father, Abba. Every now and then she looks up to the sky and talks to Adonai. But this land, this B’kanna, offered her more than Tzion ever could.
“Xow could I go back to t’at? Vhen I xad seen ze most eencredible t’ings? Xoo vould xaf believed me - t’at ve could fly and breaze fire and turn eento dragons?” Her warm, cinnamon colored eyes go wide, as if she is reliving these revelations for the first time. She shakes her head, tossing silver strands around, and pauses to glance around the changing landscape. They were almost to the Valley. “No. I xaf seen miracles beyond my wildest dreams, and known xeartache and birt’ed my cheeldren xere. I xaf been a Keen. And I shall outleev most of my fameelee. So perxaps vhen t’ey are gone, I shall leave again… or maybe I vill just go to sleep.” She glances back at Demian, knowing that he understands what she speaks of.
In the following silence, Yael might have blushed, if horses could do so. Instead, she tsks at herself, and quickly changes the subject. “Ach, but I haf been talking too long! So sorry, my freends.” The golden mare falls silent then, until Demian introduces them to the Valley, and she breathes deeply, inhaling that fresh pine smell, the crispness that is so lacking in the Desert. There is something to be said for the rest of the kingdoms; they are usually exceptionally beautiful. And yet she wonders if they could compare to the empty sky at night, or the radiant sunrises and sunsets. For now, Yael simply enjoys the change in scenery, and the company of this odd trio. It wouldn’t be long, she silently muses, before it might all come crashing down.
“Of course, eet vould be my pleasure” she says simply and falls into step with the two of them. It isn’t long before the conversation picks up again, and a smile quirks the corner of her lips. She glances over to Demian, and then back to Chalmette. “T’ank you. I ahm from a land called Tzion… eet ees ze ancestral xome of my tribe.” She pauses briefly, no more than a few paces, and then soldiers on through a story that has lost most of its pain by now. “Somet’ing xappened vhen I vas a girl. T’ere vas a fire, ahnd…. everyvone died except me. My fazer got me out. Ahnd t’en I ran and ran and ran and ended up xere. Ahnd a very nice voman took me under xer care een ze Desert.”
Yael ruffles her wings, remembering the day she got them, and then the day she could maintain them on her own. The women here were fifty times stronger than the women of her tribe, they knew liberties previously only afforded to men. Sure, there were female Rabbis, and some of the elder mares were highly respected, but on the whole, stallions were in control. It blewYael’s mind; and then it empowered her. “T’ey all took me een, showed me a vorld I could never dream of - ve xad no mageec, no idea t’at ve could be any more t’an a mate and mozer…” She chuckles incredulously. Yael has held tightly to some traditions from her past, trying to give her children names in her language, trying to get them to call her Imma and their father, Abba. Every now and then she looks up to the sky and talks to Adonai. But this land, this B’kanna, offered her more than Tzion ever could.
“Xow could I go back to t’at? Vhen I xad seen ze most eencredible t’ings? Xoo vould xaf believed me - t’at ve could fly and breaze fire and turn eento dragons?” Her warm, cinnamon colored eyes go wide, as if she is reliving these revelations for the first time. She shakes her head, tossing silver strands around, and pauses to glance around the changing landscape. They were almost to the Valley. “No. I xaf seen miracles beyond my wildest dreams, and known xeartache and birt’ed my cheeldren xere. I xaf been a Keen. And I shall outleev most of my fameelee. So perxaps vhen t’ey are gone, I shall leave again… or maybe I vill just go to sleep.” She glances back at Demian, knowing that he understands what she speaks of.
In the following silence, Yael might have blushed, if horses could do so. Instead, she tsks at herself, and quickly changes the subject. “Ach, but I haf been talking too long! So sorry, my freends.” The golden mare falls silent then, until Demian introduces them to the Valley, and she breathes deeply, inhaling that fresh pine smell, the crispness that is so lacking in the Desert. There is something to be said for the rest of the kingdoms; they are usually exceptionally beautiful. And yet she wonders if they could compare to the empty sky at night, or the radiant sunrises and sunsets. For now, Yael simply enjoys the change in scenery, and the company of this odd trio. It wouldn’t be long, she silently muses, before it might all come crashing down.
meep. forgive me, friends. i have no excuse :/