that's all there is
At some point, she has begun to come to the realization that in the future, at some time she can’t predict, most of those living in her new home will leave. They’ll return to their actual homes – to Loess, to Sylva, to other lands not as safe as her own. It drives her to wander away from the Pampas, and into the world outside. She doesn’t relish the travel, especially through the common lands.
They were her childhood home, after all, and she can see glimpses of her father behind every tree – in shadows and in streams of light. It simply reminds her that he’s gone.
The field is more comfortable – it’s not a place Rhonen and Noah had spent much time, so it is less like a bad dream and more like an adventure. She keeps her wings tucked securely against her slender form and moves through the trees of the forest and out into the Field, eyes scanning those gathered. Winter wind bites into her neck and legs and face, though her feathered appendages protect the bulk of her body.
She lets her subconscious pick, and is drawn to the pale mare and the golden stallion. She offers a hesitant smile in greeting, and a nod, and stations herself where she can see both of them. “Hello,” she nearly whispers it, though she’s doing her best to speak at a louder volume (strangely loud, to her). “I’m Noah.” Her dark gaze flits from face to face – she knows nothing about the rest of Beqanna, really, but he knows of the field and so he must be a native, or a least a resident.
noah
