At first she thinks the patter of footsteps might be a fawn strayed too far from its mother’s side. They are light and quick, but lack the inherent hesitance that she’d think a deer would have, so when she raises her head to see a foal instead of a fawn, she is not entirely surprised.
Still, this is not a foal she has seen before, and she cannot quite picture Arrya letting one of her offspring wander so far from her side. Sylva is a safe place though, so Djinni doesn’t eliminate the possibility until the filly herself solves the mystery with a flood of words.
Though she’s never been especially fond of children that are not directly related to her, this one doesn’t seem to be the whining sort and the spotted mare smiles at the girl’s enthusiasm. “This is Sylva,” she tells the breathless filly, “You’ve made it quite far from Tephra; you must be very brave.” She smiles, rather impressed that the filly had made it this far on her own. She does hope that she had permission to wander off; it wouldn’t do for Sylva to get a reputation as a kidnapper’s den.
“My name is Djinni,” she tells the roan filly. “Would you like me to show you Sylva?”