Watching the gathering in Ischia was not exactly what Breckin had been planning to do today. And yet when she had heard the call from a familiar voice, she is not entirely surprised that her lackadaisical wanderings eventually lead her in the direction of the sound; her existential curiosity renewed yet again. The vagabond had started her journey in Ischia before moving to Nerine and though her decision leaned towards joining the kingdom of Nerine, fascination still clutched at her heart in regards to the island paradise of Ischia. Perhaps it was the adoration of the land that she had seen within Brennen’s eyes that had drawn her back yet again in hopes of finding the root of it all.
A smile presses along the lines of her mouth when she finds the source of the sound, noting the recognizable bay form of the stallion standing amongst his peers. Though she is near the crowd, she stands along the outskirts, observing from a far and remaining quiet as the varying voices carry her waiting ears. A sense of déjà vu envelopes her as she recalls the kingdom meeting she had audited in Nerine. And as the others words register, recognition quickly intermingles with the déjà vu. So this was what Queen Hestia and Scorch had been speaking of.
As if on cue, the distinct huskiness of Scorch’s voice demands the spotted woman’s attention and her gaze finds the barren mare easily in the company of Hestia. From where she stands she could easily be seen by the pair and her smile grows a little wider. But Breckin cannot help but elicit a small laugh at Scorch’s fiery words; she knew her friend had much more depth to her than the easy companionship they had enjoyed in Nerine and the leopard mare was not disappointed when she witnessed this different side first hand.
Fascinated, she watches the rest of the proceedings with undivided attention. So a new era begins in Ischia with Brennen at the head. There are others closer to him that would no doubt offer there congratulations to their new leader. But all the same she is happy for him and Breckin lowers her head in quiet acknowledgment while offering a simple smile in the direction of her winged friend. Maybe he saw her, maybe he didn’t. It would not matter. Someday she would seek him out and congratulate him personally. But for now she leaves him in the company of his people, and slips her pale bodice back into the foliage of the tropics, contented to know that the wild beauty of Ischia is in good hands.
A smile presses along the lines of her mouth when she finds the source of the sound, noting the recognizable bay form of the stallion standing amongst his peers. Though she is near the crowd, she stands along the outskirts, observing from a far and remaining quiet as the varying voices carry her waiting ears. A sense of déjà vu envelopes her as she recalls the kingdom meeting she had audited in Nerine. And as the others words register, recognition quickly intermingles with the déjà vu. So this was what Queen Hestia and Scorch had been speaking of.
As if on cue, the distinct huskiness of Scorch’s voice demands the spotted woman’s attention and her gaze finds the barren mare easily in the company of Hestia. From where she stands she could easily be seen by the pair and her smile grows a little wider. But Breckin cannot help but elicit a small laugh at Scorch’s fiery words; she knew her friend had much more depth to her than the easy companionship they had enjoyed in Nerine and the leopard mare was not disappointed when she witnessed this different side first hand.
Fascinated, she watches the rest of the proceedings with undivided attention. So a new era begins in Ischia with Brennen at the head. There are others closer to him that would no doubt offer there congratulations to their new leader. But all the same she is happy for him and Breckin lowers her head in quiet acknowledgment while offering a simple smile in the direction of her winged friend. Maybe he saw her, maybe he didn’t. It would not matter. Someday she would seek him out and congratulate him personally. But for now she leaves him in the company of his people, and slips her pale bodice back into the foliage of the tropics, contented to know that the wild beauty of Ischia is in good hands.