[private] to learn my dreams aren't rare

[Ryatah]

now and then there’s a light in the darkness,
feel around until you find where your heart went --
“You don’t have to be polite,” she tells the stranger, her dark eyes appearing more somber than usual in her honesty. “The world is a rather impolite place, and sometimes things simply aren’t fine.” She steals another look at their surroundings, taking in the water that had far overreached its boundaries, at the signs of destruction that the last storm had left behind—trees scarred by broken branches, the drastic change in Beqanna’s horizon as mountains and forests were leveled or submerged.

She is accustomed to things not being fine—her life is a series of disasters and tragedies, but Beqanna, ever-changing though it may be, had alway remained relatively consistent. This the most she had seen it change, shrinking down to an almost inhabitable island, and it would be a lie to say that it did not create a general feeling of unease in her.

She could start over somewhere else entirely new if she had to (she has before, after all—this is not the place of her birth), but in the manner of a spoiled child, she doesn’t want to.

“So you are not from Beqanna, then,” she affirms gently, nodding her head to show that she understands where the mare’s disquiet comes from. Being in a strange place is never easy; she remembers how different Beqanna had been in comparison to where she had come from (she did not think of that humid jungle often, but, there were still nights that it—and a certain pale, red-eyed stallion—came to her in dreams, haunted memories that her mind could not let go of). “It’s….a bit different than it usually looks, but welcome all the same. My name is Ryatah.”

-- ryatah

@Tavani