10-31-2022, 01:57 AM
Ryatah
For all of her previous experience with being a leader, she should have perhaps been better at it this time around. She knows that she should have figured out a way to contact those in Baltia, and should have sought out someone from Stratos. It is not that she is avoiding them, necessarily, but this stint in leadership is vastly different from when she had been handed the crown for the Dale. The Dale had been a settled kingdom, a place with rooted residents and a sense of purpose. It had not been without its own drama, of course, considering the crown had been more or less taken and then gifted to her, but that was, truthfully, a normal change in leadership for Beqanna.
The Pampas—though it had always been a part of Beqanna—was created as a kingdom from chaos and destruction, and many that lived here did so out of necessity. There were no other kingdoms, no other lands. The common lands grew crowded, and while a portion of the population had always treated them as makeshift homelands, even that was proving difficult with how much of their land mass now sat under water.
It’s why when she hears a call at the border she is not surprised, though it takes her a moment to recognize the official tone to it; the announcement of a formal visitor, something she had not heard in quite some time, and never here. She follows the direction of the call, and the mostly flat landscape makes it easy to pinpoint the figure of the mare on the horizon. It is such a drastic difference from Hyaline that for a moment, instead of being grateful at how simple it is to locate a newcomer, she feels a clench of sorrow in her chest and is overcome with images of the lost mountain kingdom. She thinks of jagged peaks reaching towards the sky, of the mirror-like reflection of the lake where the land had earned its name, and groves of trees painting the rugged hills. It had been the closest thing to the two other homes she already lost—the valley and the dale—and now it was gone, too.
Brilliant Pampas is beautiful, but it is not yet home.
She pushes those thoughts aside once she reaches the stranger, and though she eyes her carefully—noticing almost immediately that she exhibits different features, even by Beqanna standard—the smile that she offers is friendly, and her voice has not lost any of the warmth that it usually holds, not even for the sake of sounding formal. “Hello,” she says once she is close enough, followed by an introduction. “My name is Ryatah. Are you looking for someone?” She asks, as if the mare is likely not looking for her—the leader—specifically.
The Pampas—though it had always been a part of Beqanna—was created as a kingdom from chaos and destruction, and many that lived here did so out of necessity. There were no other kingdoms, no other lands. The common lands grew crowded, and while a portion of the population had always treated them as makeshift homelands, even that was proving difficult with how much of their land mass now sat under water.
It’s why when she hears a call at the border she is not surprised, though it takes her a moment to recognize the official tone to it; the announcement of a formal visitor, something she had not heard in quite some time, and never here. She follows the direction of the call, and the mostly flat landscape makes it easy to pinpoint the figure of the mare on the horizon. It is such a drastic difference from Hyaline that for a moment, instead of being grateful at how simple it is to locate a newcomer, she feels a clench of sorrow in her chest and is overcome with images of the lost mountain kingdom. She thinks of jagged peaks reaching towards the sky, of the mirror-like reflection of the lake where the land had earned its name, and groves of trees painting the rugged hills. It had been the closest thing to the two other homes she already lost—the valley and the dale—and now it was gone, too.
Brilliant Pampas is beautiful, but it is not yet home.
She pushes those thoughts aside once she reaches the stranger, and though she eyes her carefully—noticing almost immediately that she exhibits different features, even by Beqanna standard—the smile that she offers is friendly, and her voice has not lost any of the warmth that it usually holds, not even for the sake of sounding formal. “Hello,” she says once she is close enough, followed by an introduction. “My name is Ryatah. Are you looking for someone?” She asks, as if the mare is likely not looking for her—the leader—specifically.
EVEN ANGELS HAVE THEIR WICKED SCHEMES
@Rezza