my soul is in the sky
Rae doubts she would want more knowledge of the world than she already has. She can feel the sky and the birds and the direction of the wind. She cannot imagine feeling the earth too and all the creatures that call it home. For one, she has no interest, but secondly, it seems simply like too much. To know it all, to feel it all, seems like a weight she does not want to bear. A weight that a girl made of wind and rain and storms cannot imagine wearing, a weight that feels too much like roots.
Then again, perhaps it is not roots at all. Perhaps it is like the wind and the sky in its vast, wide expanse to know so much. She will, likely, never know what it is like, though she does not lament this not knowing. What she does know is enough, and she wants nothing else.
The idea of roots sometimes sits with her though. Rae spends so much time watching them live that she has begun to wonder what it is like to live tethered to the ground and not to the sky. Some part of her longs for the companionship that comes with it, but she cannot fathom giving up the sky and has not yet begun to figure how one might be able to have both.
Is it strange that I have the answer before I have the question? comes the reply, and Rae finds that her lips curve into a a wicked little half grin. “No, not in this place.” This place meaning Beqanna. Rae has seen so many places. In some, magic is even more rampant than here, though in many there is little to no magic at all. Beqanna sits on the upper end of “magical” so to speak, and as such, Rae is not particularly surprised by this mare.
After all, Rae is the wind and the sky, and they are limitless. She has seen it all, and so, it is hard to surprise the sky-dipped mare.
The next question is more personal, though again, not shocking. Rae literally wears her heart on her coloring, on her obvious affinity for the sky down to the bird-like way she moves and flies. She is something just slightly other, but only slightly, and her heart seeks more. “Curiosity,” she answers simply. “The birds found you noteworthy. I find that they are usually right.”
More too, this curiosity of roots blooming in her heart, though she does not know the words to express them. Likely, she does not need to say them at all though for this mare to simply know. There is something to the idea of living, of family and friends, sometimes in all that that shapes you and keeps you grounded. There is something more than the kinship of birds and the wildness of the wind in all that that calls to her, but the sky calls even more, and she cannot settle, does not know how.
In this, she cannot help the mare keep her world from splintering. Rae’s world has always been this way, and she simply chooses one.
rae
@[leliana]