[private] there are runes on my skin; rosebay

[Aela]

Something had come from the Mountain.

She could feel it, a summoning Magic that called out through the endless night like a plea. Aela had heard it - felt it - and had started to travel towards that hallowed place. The palomino had even come close enough to see its shadow rising above the mountain range that extended from Hyaline.

Aela had come that close and then she had turned around.
Something had told her to go back.

The striped girl doesn't mind the dark. She doesn't particularly care for the monsters but they don't trouble her. Her golden hide isn't slashed with scars or marred with wounds that struggle to heal. Where they roam is not close by and so Aela comes and goes as she always has. She slips from one corner of Pangea to another, favoring a cavern not far from the river that flows through the canyon country.

It's the cavern she is thinking of now. Sleep after hours of a fruitless search.

Her mind is filled with a few things. She thinks of Straia's tree that no longer burns. She thinks of what the other girl had said, irritated that the Taigans no longer hid within their borders. She thinks of Gale and therefore more questions fill her wandering mind and Aela thinks (briefly) that a pair of wings would be preferable to legs. Islandres is a fair distance from Pangea and the palomino shakes her head, saving the questions for another time.

Suddenly, she stops. There is a sound nearby - the scamper of a creature, the scuttle of stone, the breaking of a twig - that alerts her. An ear pricks to the source while her blue eyes scan the darkness, attempting to locate the source.

@[rosebay]

[rosebay]

Rosebay

She likes the darkness—more so than others, perhaps, and less than others. There are parts of it that remind her of what has stolen her mother and there is a piece of her that hates it for that. Hates that it is the thing that has ripped her family apart, but Rosebay has never been a particularly sentimental creature and she doesn’t dwell for long on such things. Instead she turns her attention toward the things that scurry within it. The things that breathe forth fear—the things that draw out the dark and creepy things.

Rosebay turns her attention toward them, her face a map of her desires when no one is looking.

The second that she thinks she is being watched though, such things change. When she catches the sound of the palomino nearby, she rearranges her features into something plain and simple. Not the simpering smile that she sometimes practices for the boys she meets to the cruel sneer that she holds when she meets someone so obviously weaker. Instead she remains carefully neutral, forgettable in so many ways.

She angles her path toward the other carefully, casually, flicking an ear forward as she turns around a corner and walks closer toward the other so that the faint light catches the angles of her face just so. “Hello,” she says lightly, even her voice bland as she comes to a stop, her short tail flicking against the edges of her hocks. Her ivory armor has just started to come in now, creeping along the delicate build of her body, down the simple lines of her face, but the rest of her is unremarkable—plain browns and white.

“Not many venture into Pangea during these times,” a statement more than question or accusation.

She pauses, musing, before deciding that she would no longer fill the silence for the other mare.

but in all chaos, there is calculation

@[Aela]