chaos is only understood when
it is loved by the wild,
not the weak.
Along the edge of the field, she listens to the tranquility of the night. Unlike the meadow, this land always seemed to be quiet. Some may have found it eerie, but she had always thought it to be almost serene, with the long grasses rippling in the wind, and the hum of voices absent so that she could hear the crickets chirping and the distant call of an owl from a nearby tree.
She is a little surprised when she sees a trio of horses – and two of them instantly capture her attention. There was no shortage of vibrant and beautiful colors in Beqanna, but she was still drawn to those that shimmered and glittered like the night sky. She was envious, but in an entirely innocent way. It was more of a longing, to be seen as something so strikingly beautiful as these two mares were. Aislyn was lovely, in her own right. The splashes of white across her body were a stark contrast against the endless black, and her eyes were such a vibrant pink that she could feel others staring at them when they spoke to her. But she did not have the delicate, feminine softness that she had seen in so many. There was a feralness to her, and it showed in the windswept tangles of her mane, and the scars that already decorated her growing body from recklessly climbing or crossing anything in her path.
“Hi!” She chirps excitedly once she is close enough, her wide-eyed gaze for the most part lingering on the mares, but she spares a glance and a smile to the stallion and his fox companion, too. “I’m Aislyn.” She looks to the first mare, the one the color of stars, and says with admiration, “You look like the night sky.” Then, her gaze settles on the other mare, another smile breaking across her face. “And you...you remind me of when the moon reflects off the ocean at night.” Dark, but somehow vibrant and blue, with the surface of the water shimmering and rippling. Her attention suddenly shifts to the fox that remained dutifully at the stallion’s side, and she cannot help but to ask him curiously, “Does your fox have a name?”
She is a little surprised when she sees a trio of horses – and two of them instantly capture her attention. There was no shortage of vibrant and beautiful colors in Beqanna, but she was still drawn to those that shimmered and glittered like the night sky. She was envious, but in an entirely innocent way. It was more of a longing, to be seen as something so strikingly beautiful as these two mares were. Aislyn was lovely, in her own right. The splashes of white across her body were a stark contrast against the endless black, and her eyes were such a vibrant pink that she could feel others staring at them when they spoke to her. But she did not have the delicate, feminine softness that she had seen in so many. There was a feralness to her, and it showed in the windswept tangles of her mane, and the scars that already decorated her growing body from recklessly climbing or crossing anything in her path.
“Hi!” She chirps excitedly once she is close enough, her wide-eyed gaze for the most part lingering on the mares, but she spares a glance and a smile to the stallion and his fox companion, too. “I’m Aislyn.” She looks to the first mare, the one the color of stars, and says with admiration, “You look like the night sky.” Then, her gaze settles on the other mare, another smile breaking across her face. “And you...you remind me of when the moon reflects off the ocean at night.” Dark, but somehow vibrant and blue, with the surface of the water shimmering and rippling. Her attention suddenly shifts to the fox that remained dutifully at the stallion’s side, and she cannot help but to ask him curiously, “Does your fox have a name?”
Aislyn
