for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Sometimes she walks down to the field, still enjoying the trip over the well work paths from Hyaline to the common lands. Winter is of course her least favorite time of the year to visit but it is also an anniversary of sorts. One ugly winter she herself had arrived in the field, having wished to come to such a place she arrived when a girl of barely three. Now she is not quite sure how old she is, but there have been more than a few years between that day and this one.
Travel by magical means has become easier now that she has better learned how to separate herself from the water, she can rematerialize almost complete dry if she is mindful to reassemble her molecules swiftly enough to keep the water from sticking. That’s what she does today. She isn’t about to freeze to death in the field during the middle of winter.
Kensa is nearly dry when she appears in the shallows of the pool surrounding the falls. She is only fetlock deep in the icy water and a little drips from the ends of her mane. Finding that she has made her sudden arrival very near a stranger she snorts in surprise and smiles openly. “I’m sorry if I startled you, I honestly didn’t think I’d meet anyone so close to all this freezing water.” Carefully, the chestnut primarch steps ashore and shakes her dripping forelock off her otherwise dry face. “Kensa, from Hyaline.” Introducing herself succinctly before the blond locks have even settled away from her gold freckled face. “I don’t think we have met? Have you just arrived?”
Likely, being that the field is just the sort of place that draws the newly minted citizens of Beqanna. There must be some magic in it, though she has never thought to ask anyone about it. The setting sun sets Kensa’s markings on fire, turning the white to pink, the gold rosy, and the liver chestnut an inky dark chocolate.
@[Elaina]
