04-11-2015, 03:55 AM
She probably has other important duties to attend to, but old habits die hard. Pevensie has been used to wandering around aimlessly for so long, that to break that habit would be as difficult as swearing off oxygen. Crown or not. Her wanderings today bring her away from the central oasis, out into the Desert in the general direction of the Falls'. She could fly. The sun is up in the air, she could magic herself a pair of sunlight wings and make the journey much quicker, but again - she's always just walked. All these things might have to change now.
Luckily though, as she is walking today, she spots some strange horses. Not strange as in the way they look, that would just be rude, but strange in that she had no memory of their existence here in the Deserts. That doesn't shock her, in the three years she's lived here, she hadn't actually met that many of the inhabitants. Something that would have to be quickly rectified or her reign would be short-lived. She makes her way over to them both, her feet tripping in the heavy sand. Will she ever be used to the ground moving away from underneath her feet? Probably not.
The buckskin mare approaches with a broad, welcoming smile. "My name is Pevensie, inhabitant of the Deserts. Is there anything I can help you with?" she chimes in as the mare and stallion stop talking (though the manner of their conversation she does not know). The stallion has a rather grumpy appearance about him, the mare a little upset. Perhaps they are married, she muses. That would fit the bill.
Luckily though, as she is walking today, she spots some strange horses. Not strange as in the way they look, that would just be rude, but strange in that she had no memory of their existence here in the Deserts. That doesn't shock her, in the three years she's lived here, she hadn't actually met that many of the inhabitants. Something that would have to be quickly rectified or her reign would be short-lived. She makes her way over to them both, her feet tripping in the heavy sand. Will she ever be used to the ground moving away from underneath her feet? Probably not.
The buckskin mare approaches with a broad, welcoming smile. "My name is Pevensie, inhabitant of the Deserts. Is there anything I can help you with?" she chimes in as the mare and stallion stop talking (though the manner of their conversation she does not know). The stallion has a rather grumpy appearance about him, the mare a little upset. Perhaps they are married, she muses. That would fit the bill.