The connection that she feels to Islay is instant and deep, in the way of all youthful friendships. She doesn’t question it—doesn’t bother to wonder if it will last or if it will merely be the joy of this one single interaction. In the end, it doesn’t matter. She is content to enjoy the interaction and simply live in the moment. To rest in the knowledge that she has made one new friend that she will be able to return to her family and tell them about. Talking about Erne and the shadows and the way the land felt so infinite.

“It is indeed less than the stars,” she laughs easily, throwing her head back and letting the throaty laugh float out from her. “Although perhaps in time my family will catch up.” She does not doubt that her parents would have more children. Their love for one another seemed infinite, but the only thing that dared to challenge it was the love that they had for their children—each one as loved as the next.

She smiles again, giving her affection easily and freely. Walking forward, she bumps her nose against the star child’s neck. “So when should we plan this next adventure?” Her golden eyes spark and she does her best to hold herself back, knowing that not everyone had the same appetite for immediate adventure.

Aestas does her best to remember that others may need rest or to visit family.

(It doesn’t occur to her that perhaps they may just need a break from her.)

“Perhaps in a weeks time we can meet up on the Tephran beaches?” Her head angles to the side as she look back in the direction of her home. “And then we can either portal or travel to Islandres.”

so you should get on board with someone whose course is steadier than mine
you should get on board with someone whose eyes are on the horizon, not on the skies

It had taken only an instant to find her. There were plenty of other horses around us - some weanlings, yearlings, and small family bands - and yet she had stayed. It's something that I hadn't even realized I was worried about until our conversation kept going - that the longer we stood together, the more I came to realize I would miss her after we had parted.

It had taken only an instant, yet, isn't it funny how it all changes in the course of a lazy summer afternoon?

This comes so easily, so naturally. This give-and-pull that happens comes as naturally as the tide comes up or the sun rises and falls. It comes as easily as my stars appear each night. It means that the smile that comes is easy, too. It is quiet and yet it is full of this afternoon I have shared with her; of new experiences and, perhaps, new beginnings.  Though I've said that I wished for more siblings, it's tempting to tease: "Maybe you could borrow my brother." (I love Bran, dearly. And this jesting is the joking of siblings, of a younger one towards an older one.) My father had often loved to bring other foals from the Den and since Narcisus, he hasn't brought another back.

My family might never compare to @[aestas] in size but I imagine despite their differences in size, she must have an older brother (or sister) that teases her as well.

She bumps my neck and I return the gesture, my quiet smile becoming more playful. When do we plan this next adventure? she asks and my pale blue head lifts. I know the tides and their patterns almost as well as I know the constellations. It won't be hard to come to Tephra and bring my sun-marked friend to Islandres. "I've never portaled before," I admit and my head tilts towards her, my expression curious because I'm wondering if this is how she often travels (and isn't that mystical to think about? The endless avenues of Magic and how they are used - channeled - is an ever-growing wonder to me). My dark blue eyes - like the water of my tropical home - follow back in the direction towards Tephra.

"I can meet you?" I offer, and then an idea blossoms (because I can't know that the Never-Ending Night is coming). "We could meet at the next full moon." Not so long as a few weeks but long enough, I think as my gaze looks to meet hers.