When the dawn wakes, so does Aletta.
She has never wasted much time lingering when a day starts. An old habit of hers, brought upon by a lifetime of patrolling and raising small children and then grandchildren. An even older one started from a beginning of wandering, of following the sun as soon as it rose.
It hadn’t been an easy choice to resume this lifestyle. The wanderer had long left her soul. Aletta had let her go the day that she had decided to let herself love. She has no doubt that her soul went east and west, north and south while her heart stayed within the ancient valley. (So many happy memories there - why would she ever have gone anywhere else?)
The gray mare is trying very hard to reacquaint herself with the soul that traveled and the heart that stayed. Rising early, leaving a still-sleeping Scorch, is something that helps.
Sunlight comes cascading through the treetops. The green that adorns them is bright and vibrant, revealing that Beqanna is in the heart of spring. These early mornings are quiet (apart from the idyll chatter of birdsong) and the air blows tepid, without the coming humidity of summer.
The silver mare wanders down a trail that is well-traveled - many scents linger and she assumes that is only the dawn that keeps travelers away. Their heads are still clouded with dreams. Aletta doesn’t mind. The pale woman walks ahead, enjoying the fact that she is very much awake while the world still sleeps.
@[Elle Belle] its recycled but a starter for you! <3