All things want to open. [any]

[lilliana]

She likes the forest. It's an odd choice for Lilli because it so different than other place she has taken residence in. Murmuring Rivers did have its own patches of wood but they gave way to the riverbeds, multiple streams and rivers that webbed through the landscape. Paraiso had some woods as well but the herd mainly stayed by the Waterfall, by the crystalline lake and the trees that did cover the landscape had been another type entirely than the conifers of Murmuring Rivers. And then there had been Culloden, a moor with rolling fields that came alive with the purple heather and was different than any place she had ever known. Here in Beqanna, she had stayed for a while in the Meadow and enjoyed what it had to offer. There were certainly horses, so many horses that came in a variety of colors and types that often left her head spinning.

But she liked the different. It intrigued her and made her think of marvelous it must be to be something so exotic and lovely.

Somehow though she has ended up in the Woods. She likes the way the trees reach skyward in winter and the way that the pale sunlight reaches down to illuminate on the already melting snow. It makes her feel safe somehow (perhaps a rather childish thought) and in her mind, she likes the to think of the trees as her protectors. They allow her chestnut hide to melt away into bark and shadow, protecting her from whatever danger she thinks is looming. Lilli has been coming to this forest long enough that it is starting to feel familiar, something she has been craving. The river that sings nearby is a reminder of the place she was born, the sound of running water suddenly a comfort she needed. She stays in her cluster of trees, staying out of the wind that bites and her head lowers, sleep tempting to lull the chestnut away. Her eyes close, keep closing, almost shut when a sound sends her head skyward.

Her ears dance, going in all directions until they can settle where the disturbance has come from. The blue eyes are wild for a moment, the white showing as something primitive in her threatens to send her running. But her hooves remain firm into the ground and her head clears, the momentary fear giving way to rational thought. She waits for another sound, another movement, something to tell her what is happening. But the chestnut mare is only greeted by a group of disgruntled crows that fly overhead, cawing their annoyance over whatever it was that has upset them. Lilli watches them fly, her gaze following them as they head towards the east. Her chiseled head looks back towards the direction they came from and she heads that way, her curiosity driving her to know the source of the sound. She emerges from the trees and spies the young mare, a striking silver that stands out against the backdrop of the place where the forest and river meet.

Lilli's ears prick and the young mare steps forward, calling out to her fellow mare. "Was that you making all that noise?" she calls, practical conversation completely thrown aside.