YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
They had spoken some time ago.
Reave who had attempted to show her what a narrow view of the North she kept. Reave who became Guardian of Nerine, taking up the mantle that once belonged to their beloved Heartfire. Reave who seemed to understand that Aela was a soul not told but asked, not commanded but requested.
She's taken her time in coming but the golden girl finally goes against what she had once proclaimed; she returns North. There is no magical barrier, no fire and brimstone exploding the craggy coastline. There is only the imperial granite that rises - gray and commanding against a sea that will continue to crash against it until Beqanna (or the Faeries) sinks below the ocean. Would there be a rebirth? What would Nerine - which might have once been the Jungle - look like?
Aela shivers against the damp, repelling away any memories of Taiga.
The palomino is somewhat relieved when the Redwoods fall behind her and the climbing steps that take her higher lead her well inside the Nerinian border. She doesn't hesitate to cross it, not when it is her half-brother who leads the territory. If there had been any question at her presence here, all Aela would have to do was flash a smile that she shared with the chestnut tobiano. Those striking looks would have identified her as a (close) relation to the Northern Guardian. If they had needed any further proof, she would have tossed her pretty head to make them take notice of the flaxen mane and fixed them with a stare so that they wouldn't miss those blue eyes.
And for any other doubts, Aela wouldn't have minded playing with her fire. Wouldn't have minded recalling any terrible memory.
It doesn't take her much longer to find the cave, a secluded spot that had once been a favorite of her Grandmother's. The scent of her is long gone and Aela is surprised to find the absence of the comforting smell twists something in her. Of all the things that she had thought upon returning to the North, the loss of Heartfire hadn't been one of them. Aela decides to look away from the empty chamber and out across the Moors, away from so many memories of warmth and comfort, and is greeted by the Northern chill instead.
All it will take is a glance and he'll know.
One look and @[Reave] would come.
