for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Kensa is surprised when Astarielle changes color in an excited fireworks display, though her only reaction is to smile a little more. “Astarielle is a beautiful name.” She says and presses her muzzle to the the filly’s spotted neck which is once again orange and white, taking her turn to breathe in her child’s scent and instinctively memorize it, locking little Astarielle into her own heart.
They travel home in a leisurely way because Kensa soon realizes that Astarielle has never been outside the den, or at least not for most of her life. She permits the filly to tuck into her side like a younger foal might for the security of knowing she is never far but she indulges or encourages every curiosity or exploration while making sure that the filly learns landmarks and understands the route from the commons lands to home. At the crossroads where The Mountain stands between Pangea and Hyaline she says, “Now we just follow the river home.” There would be time to explain about not cutting through Pangea later.
So they trot along the river, and Kensa splashes through the shallows and shows Astarielle how to startle shimmering fish out of hiding (careful of your hooves!). Kensa does not shy away from mud, or behave as though she is above play or looking closely at things. As they climb higher the winter’s chill keeps them out of the water and snow starts to appear on the mountain benches. The pair crosses the river one last time hooves clattering through the rocky shallows and then up a low hill before all of Hyaline is laid out before them.
“We’re home! Kensa says pleasantly, watching the filly take it all in. “What do you think?” Their family has a particular secluded place (or the family they would soon be) but after the long trip they could head up there later on. Kensa smooths her muzzle along Astarielle’s short mane. “There’s someone for you to meet.” She thinks she sees him there, coming along his patrol route from the northeast, and whinnies for the cremello shape in the distance. Just in case Astarielle is nervous to meet a stranger Kensa gives her an encouraging smile, her own heart fluttering as she has just brought her beloved a child a little earlier than he is probably expecting.
@[Astarielle] @[litotes]
