[open] on moonlit wings

[Aloy]

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

Tonight a golden spire stands out from Aloy’s blazed forehead, framed by the gold that trims her white markings. These colors are muted in the dark, like the green of her eyes as they sweep between the tree trunks. She shakes her wings out and arranges them once more upon her back. The rush of other larger wings overhead had been unmistakable. As she listens, the night brings her a snapping of twigs, breathing like bellows in the dark. Whoever it was, they have landed.

Aloy is too close to escape. She does think that word escape and bites down against the urge. Turning toward the stallion she steps out of the trees and into his sightline, she is strong but lightly built. He is a goliath. Aloy clenches her jaw, stares brazenly at him across the muddy clearing that stands between them. “Nice evening for a flight?” Asks the sabino tightly. What is he doing out here? What a place to choose for a landing. Might as well tell him so. “There are better places to land, you know.” She herself should have chosen better.

Since returning home to Beqanna Aloy has been slow to find a kingdom or land to join. With no people, no place, she spends her nights in places where she is certain she will not be disturbed. Watching the dark bulk of him shift standing there, pulling her scent out of the air, Aloy reminds herself that she must try to be more polite.

Aloy

@"Cassiel"