09-16-2017, 06:30 PM
The land is warm, the presence of spring heavy in the kingdom's air. Fiato (much like other Hyaline residents) Finds the spring to be her favorite of the seasons. For it wasn't too cold, nor was it too warm. The air held the lingering scent of honey blossoms and fresh grass. Scents that let all know where they were, Hyaline. Her home.
Fiato roamed the lands, her head held high with the pride of pregnancy. It would not be long before she welcomed her child. The foal she would call Ryrm. A strong name for an equally as strong family. The family of two to which she gave everything.
Everything including her social life. Fiato thrived upon the presence of others, her comfort being saught in crowds where she could speak and be spoken to, to make friends, to seek out alliances, and to feel safe. Though with the blessing of a pregnancy came the curse of instinct, and the instinct told her to stray far from any others. Far from everything she knew most. The lake, the emerald kingdom, her friends... Though a call was pulling her back. A light call to all whom the emerald mountains welcomed.
The seal doe would recognize the voice anywhere, for it had been the first she ever heard.
Amet.
The dragon king whom had saved her from the throws of being an orphan. While he gave her friendship instead of fathership, he had blessed her with a family larger than life. A kingdom that she held closer than anything.
This is why the woman found herself running towards the voice, long legs carrying a heavy barrel through twisting trees, and winding ivy. It is this that causes her heart to ache for interaction with her family, despite her fears. Despite everything her body is telling her, she runs.
~
The lake is as she remembered. Clear, so clear that the bottom of it was visible even from her standing point upon a hill. Her sides heaved with the burning ache from her race to them. To her family. And they did not disappoint, Tangerine and Amet. Peacefully existing in the crystalline glare of the waters below.
Despite her urge to go to them, she stays put. Her amber eyes trailing fondly over the bodice of Tangerine, and then to the golden stallion beside her. She calls to them, head turning to the lighting sky as she speaks, her voice the same whispering note it had been all those years ago when she first came to the lands.
It is a quick noise, a simple (though meaningful)
"Hello."
((UNEDITED))