[open] It's not normal for a horse to be alone

[Fiato]

It is not often that Fiato finds herself in the meadow. A peaceful commotion of those new (or very old) to Beqanna. Many horses that wandered here saught something, whether it be a home or simply just friends. Fiato was willing to give either.

Her mind wandered as she skipped through the meadow, her son following suit. He was a small thing, a beautiful bay child with swirling blue around his points. She had called him Ryrm for it was the noise he made when he was contempt. A soft 'rmm.' He followed her happily, skipping with the elegant gait of his desert ancestors. It seemed as though neither were bothered by the rain (it was a gift after all) for they merely smiled and looked about the cluster of equines.

It was not long before they spotted her. A bay mare grazing alone, her posture that of a newcomer. One who knew nothing much of the land she stood upon. 

It was she Fiato decided to speak with.

"Hello."

The word was soft, a musical note in her tone as she approached the other, her ambers eyes set on the possibility before her. Maybe the mare would wish for a place in her emerald home?