As she waits she cannot help it but to let her mind wander. Wander back to the time when she had first greeted a stranger on the border of her then home. She had been the first to meet Weir and Fynnegan, diplomats from the Dale. Soon her father had joined them. The memory was a good one, one Amore remembered with a small smile.
She recognizes her own bluntness in the way the girl addresses her. But instead of saying that the diplomats hadn’t been from the Gates, she had stated that Fynnegan was very short. The chestnut and white girl isn’t who she had hoped to come greet her, but not less welcomed. She tries to not pay too much attention to the absence of eyes, instead smiling softly at the girl, her head nodding even though she cannot see it. ”You’re right. I am not from around here." A brief pause. "But that doesn’t mean I cannot belong here. Same goes for you” she replies before taking a careful step closer. She doesn’t hurry her movements, giving Atrani time to notice what she’s doing, before gently brushing her muzzle across the girl’s shoulder.
They aren’t given more time. The wind carries is scent and instantly Amore lifts her head. Her eyes search for his form as her ears point forwards, expectation suddenly thick in the air. He was here, he really was here. She holds her breath without realising it, watching him silently, not sure if he really recognizes her. But he does, of course he does. He wouldn’t be Magnus if he didn’t. Once safely tucked in his embrace, she murmurs. ”Dad.”
She answers his embrace, her muzzle brushing across his withers and shoulders. There is a slight tremble in her body, excitement and relief, washing over her. ”I heard rumours you were here…” she answers softly, reaching her nose out to exchange her scent with his. When Magnus brings up Atrani gain, she suddenly remembers the girl was still there.
She finds herself smiling as he introduces her, a warm sensation flooding her chest. Daughter. Family. Home. ”It’s nice to meet you, Atrani” she finally says, now she was properly introduced. Then she lets her gaze travel to the golden stallion. For a moment she wonders where his wings had gone, she clearly remembers he had them, but that was something for later. ”It’s good to be home.”
Amorette
Quand on n'a que l'amour.
