[open] someone whose eyes are on the horizon

[aestas]

Aetsas thinks her parents are as constant as the very sun in the sky.

They are endless, constant. They have a love that she could never fully comprehend; could never see the beginning or the end of. Growing up in the shadow of that kind of love is an unnerving thing and an anchoring feeling. She knows in her very bones that she will always be able to find her way home and that they will always be there to shepherd her when she needs it the most. She will always be able to find her way down these paths—will always be able to follow along those roads to the core of that family.

Perhaps because of it, she feels confident in her wandering.

Perhaps especially so. 

“Islay,” she repeats with a smile, the warmth of it exploding on her face and glittering back in her eyes. “That’s a lovely name,” the sincerity is learned and innate, coming from the very core of her. Her mother had shown her the art of engaging with someone with your whole heart—giving everything into every interaction so that you could shower them with your attention, giving it away like a gift.

“I have always wanted to visit Islandres,” she remarks thoughtfully, wondering at how many other lands there are in Beqanna that she has not see yet. How many of them have her parents seen? How many would she see in her lifetime? She would be so disappointed if the answer was not all of them.

“I’m from Tephra.”

It does not occur to her that the lands are tied together.

“You should come visit!"

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