xiah
The walk to her new home - hopefully - is an unfortunately awkward one. She finds herself trying to carry the conversation, and failing horribly - all of her answers to his questions are weak and uncertain, and try as she might, any questions she might be able to ask evade her. The whole situation is a mess, and Xiah doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. In the end, she does neither; she has something of a hard time opening up to people who aren’t her sister. Where are you Kida? I miss you.
After a particularly awful silence between them, Nymphetamine extends a branch of genuinity. Xiah ponders the spoken gesture silently, though her silver eyes meet the stallion’s quick sidelong glance. Her head dips in acknowledgment of his words, but a catch in her throat denies her access to her own voice. It’s hard, coming somewhere new.
She misses home.
Her silent reminiscing comes to a halt not long after this exchange; they round a corner, and before them lays the heady pine-forest kingdom. Her brows furrow slightly at the closeness of it all; while the snow claimed everything here as it did in the Tundra, she finds herself suffocated by the lack of, well, tundraland. Perhaps one day she will learn to breathe this air; for now, she has already decided that flying will be her chosen method of travel in this land.
The red speaks a soft welcome to the black, but she barely hears him. She’s stuck in her head, trapped beneath years of memories with her lost sister, and her lost parents; her gut twists with each resurfacing image, and her lips part to tell him that she could never possibly live anywhere but the Tundra.
She does not, of course, say this. After more than a year of thorough searching through the lands far beyond Beqanna, Xiah has lost hope of ever finding her parents; and with the additional hit of having lost her sister in the fog on their way home, the Tundra will only hurt her more the closer she gets to it.
Soldier on, girl.
“Show me around some, Pheta.” A secret, but warm little smile glowed upon her frosty features as she leaned just slightly into the man; only enough for their fur to mingle. “I’m afraid I don’t navigate well in close spaces.”
You won't have any friends, and I'll live in a room
With flowers on the walls, and golden doorknobs