YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
Aela can't sense his surpise, since he's turned away from her. The golden girl shifts her weight and waits to see what he might say. He keeps looking ahead - as he should, she has never found fault with anyone who keeps their eyes to the horizon - and the palomino gives her head a small tilt, the only visible sign that she is wondering what she might find here. That slight smile never wavers and the wind blows gently by, pushing her pale forelock to the side of her blazed face. "Well," she puts back to the onyx stallion, "you told me it was never dull here."
Her golden brow rises slightly but then she gazes across the meadowlands, remembering the abundance of wildflowers that had bloomed in the memories of others.
It's only when he glances back that Aela offers her own brilliant gaze in return. Pangea is quiet. She doesn't say this but maybe he gleans that, because she is here and not there. There is a looseness to his words that she can detect but Aela - having never tasted Fae nectar - doesn't know that it is the cause. She merely observes him for a moment before looking past him and wondering aloud, "Do you make your mind up so quickly?" She glances over the plains, where the sunlight glistens over the light covering of newly-fallen snow.
Aela does and the stare she fixes on @[Obscene] says as much.
If he were a waste of her precious time, she wouldn't be here.
That smile - small and slight as she is - tugs on her pale lips again. The dark brute looks so angry, but she can't help but be amused by it. There is a glimmer of it, unperturbed by the apathetic expression waiting for her. "I don't know," she tells the Prince of the Pampas (and this is the truth, because Aela is still learning from him what she can) as she takes another step forward before stopping. She isn't looking at the territory he commands but him when she asks with the wind still pulling at her flaxen mane: "Is it everything you had dreamed of?"
