love is a temporary madness...
If there is one thing she had learned in her many years in this land, it is that nothing is impossible. Those that shouldn’t be, are. What should not happen, does. Sometimes it is almost as though there is neither rhyme nor reason to the ebb and flow of the oddities that encompass Beqanna. She knows (or at least hopes) that there must be some logic behind it, though it is far more intricate than she can hope to comprehend. All that they can do is struggle through their daily lives and hope that the powers of the land do not choose that day to turn it on its head.
This day has so far been relatively quiet. So quiet that she decides a trip to the field is in order. The path is familiar, though she flies it rather than walks. Despite the fact that she has no wings, she glides easily through the air. It is an ability that she has had since the moment of her birth, but even to this day she does not understand the workings of it. It has always simply been one of those peculiarities of this place. Nevertheless she is grateful for it. As she arrives in the field, she has the advantage of height. She is easily able to survey those below as she decides who to approach.
When her gaze lands upon the mare, she knows immediately that this is the one. There is a vulnerability there that draws out her protective instincts. She cannot say precisely what it is about the mare, whether it is the translucent skin, the tattered wings, the low-hanging head, or perhaps something else altogether. Whatever it is, she knows only that she wishes to offer her aid.
As she descends from the sky, another mare approaches. She overhears her introduce herself, placing a question before the fragile girl as she settles gently onto the earth beside the two. A warm smile easily curves her lips as kind, russet eyes fasten onto the mare.
“I do hope I am not interrupting. I am Elysteria, of the Dale.”
This day has so far been relatively quiet. So quiet that she decides a trip to the field is in order. The path is familiar, though she flies it rather than walks. Despite the fact that she has no wings, she glides easily through the air. It is an ability that she has had since the moment of her birth, but even to this day she does not understand the workings of it. It has always simply been one of those peculiarities of this place. Nevertheless she is grateful for it. As she arrives in the field, she has the advantage of height. She is easily able to survey those below as she decides who to approach.
When her gaze lands upon the mare, she knows immediately that this is the one. There is a vulnerability there that draws out her protective instincts. She cannot say precisely what it is about the mare, whether it is the translucent skin, the tattered wings, the low-hanging head, or perhaps something else altogether. Whatever it is, she knows only that she wishes to offer her aid.
As she descends from the sky, another mare approaches. She overhears her introduce herself, placing a question before the fragile girl as she settles gently onto the earth beside the two. A warm smile easily curves her lips as kind, russet eyes fasten onto the mare.
“I do hope I am not interrupting. I am Elysteria, of the Dale.”
elysteria