It is not like a foal has too much to worry about when both parents are not only around but, incredibly loving and attentive. Her parents made sure she had plenty of food and water even though resources are scarce on the Isle. Jesla speculates that all foals must struggle with balancing on their slender stilt-like limbs. They are just so impractical! For her, she had to figure out how to do so on snow, which becomes packed so hard, it is like ice. She also struggles with staying warm in the cold. Her mother had a naturally thick coat and, an equally thick hide. Her father had been gifted with two traits that protected him from the bitterness of the arctic. So, most of the time, Jesla could be found close to her parents: sidled close enough to feel their body heat or, sometimes close enough for their pelt to reach out to hers.
As of late, her dad had been talking a lot about how she was getting bigger. And, there are responsibilities and expectations that go hoof-in-hoof with growing up. He had not gone into more, specific detail; however, he did describe the roles of a diplomat versus a soldier. He was careful to explain that the Isle is a territory and thus, does not function exactly like a kingdom. All the same, visitors should be greeted as it is proper.
Jesla's nares flutter with a scent she has not come across. She lifts her poll and directs her ears in the direction it comes from. The scent is distinctly male and, feels thick as it enters her nasal caverns. The mint-spotted young lady decides to investigate. How hard could it be to walk up to someone and be a diplomat? Her four limbs, still a bit lanky for her build, coordinate into a confident walk. Jesla makes her way north as she localizes his cologne. As she picks her way through the crusty snow, she wonders why a newcomer would choose to linger in this extreme corner of the Isle. Perhaps, this male is not new to the Isle, she thinks.
The heart-shaped lake is not visible from the shoreline. The trail is not well-traveled either. Jesla finds the snow to be thicker in accumulation as it is less likely to be moved by wind drifts and, less packed down by hooves. Her own dainty hooves punch through the crusty top layer and sink into the powder beneath. The relative warmth of her body causes the snow, in each hoofprint, to melt a little and stick to her fetlocks. By the time her soft green eyes discern the stocky build of another equine, her ankles carry little Icicle bracelets. She approaches the large, scaled stallion with a curious expression. Her ears prick forward on top of her head, which cocks to the side ever-so-slightly. Her eyes are wide and bright as her soft green eyes survey his form. His hide is covered in thick, silvery scales that, when the sun touches them just right, glisten. Jesla could not fathom that this horse would volunteer to be frosted in ice so, she reasons that he must have been here for a while and, has collected a permanent layer of ice crystals along his back.
Finally, she finishes taking him all in. He knew she was there before she even came to a stop. Jesla stood much shorter than Leilan and, clearly younger. She wonders what his thoughts are of her but, he remains silent while she grossly stares. Finally, she adjusts her tilted head and introduces herself. "I am Jesla." She pauses when she hears her own voice. It surprises her as it waivers and bears a screech-like pitch. She swallows and tries again. "What are you doing way up here?" Her head tilts as the words pass her lips. Her tone this time is successfully less screechy and more curious. With a soft sigh, she stands proud of herself for making her way up here and talking to the unfamiliar guy.
@[Leilan], whew. Sorry for the delay and for how long this is. This is her first official post so I was not quite sure how I wanted it to sound. Thank you for your patience. <3
As of late, her dad had been talking a lot about how she was getting bigger. And, there are responsibilities and expectations that go hoof-in-hoof with growing up. He had not gone into more, specific detail; however, he did describe the roles of a diplomat versus a soldier. He was careful to explain that the Isle is a territory and thus, does not function exactly like a kingdom. All the same, visitors should be greeted as it is proper.
Jesla's nares flutter with a scent she has not come across. She lifts her poll and directs her ears in the direction it comes from. The scent is distinctly male and, feels thick as it enters her nasal caverns. The mint-spotted young lady decides to investigate. How hard could it be to walk up to someone and be a diplomat? Her four limbs, still a bit lanky for her build, coordinate into a confident walk. Jesla makes her way north as she localizes his cologne. As she picks her way through the crusty snow, she wonders why a newcomer would choose to linger in this extreme corner of the Isle. Perhaps, this male is not new to the Isle, she thinks.
The heart-shaped lake is not visible from the shoreline. The trail is not well-traveled either. Jesla finds the snow to be thicker in accumulation as it is less likely to be moved by wind drifts and, less packed down by hooves. Her own dainty hooves punch through the crusty top layer and sink into the powder beneath. The relative warmth of her body causes the snow, in each hoofprint, to melt a little and stick to her fetlocks. By the time her soft green eyes discern the stocky build of another equine, her ankles carry little Icicle bracelets. She approaches the large, scaled stallion with a curious expression. Her ears prick forward on top of her head, which cocks to the side ever-so-slightly. Her eyes are wide and bright as her soft green eyes survey his form. His hide is covered in thick, silvery scales that, when the sun touches them just right, glisten. Jesla could not fathom that this horse would volunteer to be frosted in ice so, she reasons that he must have been here for a while and, has collected a permanent layer of ice crystals along his back.
Finally, she finishes taking him all in. He knew she was there before she even came to a stop. Jesla stood much shorter than Leilan and, clearly younger. She wonders what his thoughts are of her but, he remains silent while she grossly stares. Finally, she adjusts her tilted head and introduces herself. "I am Jesla." She pauses when she hears her own voice. It surprises her as it waivers and bears a screech-like pitch. She swallows and tries again. "What are you doing way up here?" Her head tilts as the words pass her lips. Her tone this time is successfully less screechy and more curious. With a soft sigh, she stands proud of herself for making her way up here and talking to the unfamiliar guy.
@[Leilan], whew. Sorry for the delay and for how long this is. This is her first official post so I was not quite sure how I wanted it to sound. Thank you for your patience. <3