that's all there is
The plague rages around them, but not within the borders of the Brilliant Pampas. Here, it is as if the outside world does not exist – fields of flowers bloom riotiously, and a breeze blows across the heated meadows occasionally. The trees that dot their landscape are verdant, and the river that turns into a stream as it winds its way across their peninsula is flowing nicely, bubbling and laughing brightly. Laughing – something that Noah hasn’t done often, not recently. When she leaves the safe haven of her new home, she is met with disease and fear and anger – she herself is immune, a strange gift from the dark god (she refuses now to think of him as her great-grandfather) who had killed her father, but she can’t help all of them.
She wants to help them as many as possible, but she has promised to help the Loessian refugees and the people in the Pampas, so she conserves her strength for the most part, acting only to help those who seem particularly close to death, and the children. None of the residents of the Pampas right now need her help, or none that have approached her, so she is surprised to find the unpleasant scent of sickness drifting across her path. The little mare wrinkles her nose in distaste but turns to follow the trail, her footsteps nearly silent in the deep grasses. Usually she would revive the flora as she walks, and she offers a silent apology for not doing so, but she is not going to waste her strength on the grass when she might need it for another creature.
Noah takes a moment to watch the other mare, who is wandering quite aimlessly but speaking Noah’s name. This is the one who is sick – she can see it now, as well as smell it. It’s paired with the smell of Sylva, and so she is cautious as she steps forward to make herself known, because she remembers Arthas and his ‘friends’. Noah had not trusted them, had not liked them, and so she is cautious of this new Sylvan; she’d believed that Wolfbane had convinced them not to come around with danger in the minds, but there’s always the worry that his threats would not have been clear enough for some. She doesn’t know Arthas is dead, or that someone new rules in Sylva.
“I’m Noah,” she murmurs quietly, blinking at the stranger. “Can I help you?”
noah
@[Mary]