now i don't know who i've become
and another day breathes
tearing at the seams
and i hope i don't come undone
Meeting the others here, beyond Aela, is a daunting prospect. Will they all appraise her like the other mare had, weighing her beauty as an asset? Some, her mother included, learned that beauty could be used for their benefit. Innocently wielded or weaponized it required a finesse, the proper personality. Aloy is distinctly without charm or guile but it doesn’t stop her loveliness from altering her life of its own accord. Someone would see her and come along eventually wanting to benefit in some way from knowing her or touching her.
Except the first one to come, on his butterfly wings, short spiral horns rising up among his blonde locks, is barely more than a boy. Water drips from Aloy’s white muzzle as she backs up a step, hooves crunching in the snow. Aloy does her best not to look annoyed, tipping her antlered head up to sniff at the air as the barely-a-stallion youth flutters his pretty wings over the water. “Hi.” She says, warily.
Her mother had tried to raise her in ever-increasing levels of isolation, and Aloy had left her behind almost as soon as she could. Thinking she could make a better life, have more adventures, be strong in ways Kensa had never been. Unfortunately, the world is hard and cruel, and full of lies. It preys upon the ignorant bravery of innocence and draws out the worst parts of every creature. This boy doesn’t seem to know that yet, she envies him as much as she feels a simmering hatred for what the world may twist him into.
“Yes I’m new. My name is Aloy. What is yours?” Maybe its his demeanor, or the delicate wings and whimsical sunlight-pale spotting covering his body but Aloy allows herself to relax as little. “I’ve never seen wings like yours.”