[open] he came to me with the sweetest smile, any

[Isilya]

Isilya

yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
her purest of crystal and brightest of green

She’s decorated today in soft pastels, the woody vines that take place of her mane and braid and twist down her spine are covered in big droops of white and soft blue wysteria, punctuated here and there with gentle blooms of baby’s breath. She’s quite all dressed up - it helped her feel better about what she was going to do today. She’s never been a big fan of winter, even though she certainly matches it today, but she’s using the dormant time to really work towards her goal today.

She was going to stop hiding herself in gardens and forests and talk to someone else.

Only, finding someone else to talk to was proving a little harder than she expected. Isilya had been standing still for a while, fretting and wondering if maybe she should head back to Tephra, when an unfamiliar voice broke the near-silence.

It takes the golden-pointed mare a moment to realize he might be talking to her. She does a quick look around, just to see if there’s anyone else in the area, because she’s a little bit confused by the atypical greeting. What happened to the good old fashioned ‘hello! I like you let’s be friends forever’ that was more or less her staple? Still, she supposed he had to have points for creativity.

So, once she’s certain that there is a very good likelihood that he was trying to talk to her, she turns towards him and offers her brightest, sunniest smile. “Waiting for someone to say hello, I guess!” That had been what she had been doing, after all. Working up the courage to go over and say hello to someone herself but here comes along this wonderful stranger with a gorgeous halo and he greets her first instead! Takes all the pressure off.

She is still getting used to talking to other creatures that can actually talk back, so hopefully some of her awkwardness can be forgiven.

In contrast with the chill around them there’s only warmth in her voice as she continues. “I’m Isilya. What’s your name?”

’twas not her soft magic of streamlet or rill
oh! no, it was something more exquisite still

@[messiah]