07-03-2019, 12:56 AM
She never should have left home. Of course, she didn't actually realize this, she was far too preoccupied with other things, like the way people would come and go in this world but hardly anyone stopped even for a moment to talk to one another or take in the beauty of the lands around them. Of course, her parents would take ages to realize she was missing. Keav and Bastille had been entirely content with their blue diamond eyed daughter. This relaxed parenting style had lent itself to Astana becoming a free spirit full of joy and laughter as the gods had known she would be all along. As one might expect, she is giggling quietly to herself, thinking about stars and dreams. Her delicate burble of laughter is like a tinkling of silver almost, perhaps with the sharpness of a diamond. The pale filly made of gold smiles with something that lights up her entire face, so reminiscent of her mother’s own smile, and the older sister that she has met only once. The pale girl is still so young, far too small to be out here all alone. Multifaceted eyes look around, the snow reflecting the sunlight into her eyes of diamonds speckled with flecks of blue. The pale girl offers a distant, but gentle smile for the world, humming in sweet lilting tones. clearly, on this winter’s day, Astana was traveling no where in particular. Perhaps, for the most part, because Astana had no where to go in the first place. No where to go and no one to see. Her small hooves sink into the snow when she walks, if only a little, after all, she is such a tiny little thing. A tiny little thing to be out in this great wide world. All alone. But, if you were to ask her, she would say she didn't feel alone. No, she had her stars to keep her company, and her thoughts and her songs. In fact, Astana had perhaps all the company she would ever need! She was content to question the world with curious eyes and a sweet smile. Content just as well too to make up her own answers for the questions to which she received nothing for. But, tell her she is wrong and Astana may tell you to just dream a little bit harder and talk to the stars for a little bit longer. The sun is setting. While Astana would bask under her precious stars for all eternity, she does think she may fear the dark, where hides all the monsters Bastille had told his daughters about. She retains her mother’s grace, walking through the strange land as quiet as a ghost and twice as unnerving. She is young, she is naive, and a bit clueless at times, but that childish mind has still retained some sort of safety instructions her mother had given her. If you are lost, find an adult, preferably a mare. Mares are usually more apt to help foals. This, now this is something Astana remembers. This she knows. And so when she sees a female before her in the dimming light, Astana shuffles those quiet, ghostly steps towards her, though her luminescent coat far keeps her from being discreet. “Hi, your an adult,” she says, staring up at her with those flashy diamond eyes, like bright little satellite dishes, so large on her small, dished face. “Do you want to help me?” She says then, tilting her tiny head. “Maybe we can be friends.” |