the dead are gone, and the living are hungry.
She is getting more than a little tired of her mother’s antics.
Lyris is a volatile creature, prone wandering and the occasional wild mood. Lexa loves her mother dearly, but dealing with her on a daily basis is just … exhausting. And she needs a break.
Thankfully Lyris isn’t the strictest of mothers - Lexa hadn’t even needed her permission to leave the kingdom, she’d just gone.
And so now, here she is, out of the Amazons for the first time and ready to explore. At first glance the playground is nothing special - a small, secluded meadow surrounded by trees - but she squares her shoulders and marches in anyway. There aren’t any other children her age in the Jungle that she’s aware of, and she's eager to have a conversation with someone that is not her mother, and not several years older than her.
It takes her longer than she’d expected to find someone. The playground is depressingly empty, and the few scents she detects seem old. Clearly it’s been some time since anyone played here.
But eventually, a foreign scent reaches her nose and she tracks it down. A boy. How interesting. There aren’t many of those in the Amazons.
She marches up to the boy and stops right in front of him, head cocked to the side and inspecting him with a critical eye. She’s immediately interested to see the gold strands of hair in his mane - the shade is identical to the golden coronet band around the top of her left front hoof. Curious.
“I’m Lexa.” She offers, by way of greeting. “Why is there gold in your mane?” Well she’s clearly inherited her mother’s penchant for directness.
Lyris is a volatile creature, prone wandering and the occasional wild mood. Lexa loves her mother dearly, but dealing with her on a daily basis is just … exhausting. And she needs a break.
Thankfully Lyris isn’t the strictest of mothers - Lexa hadn’t even needed her permission to leave the kingdom, she’d just gone.
And so now, here she is, out of the Amazons for the first time and ready to explore. At first glance the playground is nothing special - a small, secluded meadow surrounded by trees - but she squares her shoulders and marches in anyway. There aren’t any other children her age in the Jungle that she’s aware of, and she's eager to have a conversation with someone that is not her mother, and not several years older than her.
It takes her longer than she’d expected to find someone. The playground is depressingly empty, and the few scents she detects seem old. Clearly it’s been some time since anyone played here.
But eventually, a foreign scent reaches her nose and she tracks it down. A boy. How interesting. There aren’t many of those in the Amazons.
She marches up to the boy and stops right in front of him, head cocked to the side and inspecting him with a critical eye. She’s immediately interested to see the gold strands of hair in his mane - the shade is identical to the golden coronet band around the top of her left front hoof. Curious.
“I’m Lexa.” She offers, by way of greeting. “Why is there gold in your mane?” Well she’s clearly inherited her mother’s penchant for directness.
lexa