For her, the first herald of Lethy's return is Turul gliding between the trees with his usual ease, but it is Owin who moves to greet her first. It is typically Owin who knows things first, but Popinjay is never slow to react, racing alongside her brother with ease. That Kalil is often left behind is not a purposeful neglect on her part, but she tends to get lost in the moment, committing to whatever new thing has occurred to her, so when Owin's head turns, and a moment later, Turul appears, she does not take the time to remember that their youngest sibling cannot keep up. The dark filly kicks up her heels, galloping to greet her mother and the filly she has brought home.
Owin knows exactly where they are and Poppy lets him take the lead, drawing near a close second. Unlike the colt, she leaves no space between herself and the pair, but closes the space without hesitation to nip at Lethy's mane and then thrust her muzzle down to meet that of the strange foal the purple-eyed mare has brought home with her. She is like uncut boulder opal, a rainbow shining beneath the mouse-dun coat.
Orion, Owin says, and Popinjay nods, moving her muzzle as the colt greets the child, and blows air into the filly's ears with a laugh. If she takes note of the sadness that clings to Orion, she makes no mention of it and takes no additional care, tracing her body with her nose and inhaling her strange scent. No child of the woods, this. As Aten and Kalil draw near, Poppy finishes her examination of the filly with a playful nip, teeth scraping harmlessly across Orion's thigh, then rolls her head and dances away before she can be reprimanded for being too rough.
Owin knows exactly where they are and Poppy lets him take the lead, drawing near a close second. Unlike the colt, she leaves no space between herself and the pair, but closes the space without hesitation to nip at Lethy's mane and then thrust her muzzle down to meet that of the strange foal the purple-eyed mare has brought home with her. She is like uncut boulder opal, a rainbow shining beneath the mouse-dun coat.
Orion, Owin says, and Popinjay nods, moving her muzzle as the colt greets the child, and blows air into the filly's ears with a laugh. If she takes note of the sadness that clings to Orion, she makes no mention of it and takes no additional care, tracing her body with her nose and inhaling her strange scent. No child of the woods, this. As Aten and Kalil draw near, Poppy finishes her examination of the filly with a playful nip, teeth scraping harmlessly across Orion's thigh, then rolls her head and dances away before she can be reprimanded for being too rough.
Popinjay
She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.
@[Izora Lethia] @[Orion] @[Aten]
