She doesn’t know what’s brought her back, but Areane casts a cautious glance across the sweeping landscape of the Ruins. It was wide and open, and yet something about this place tended to make her feel closed in. Her wings hang neatly against her slim onyx sides, though perhaps too tightly in the present heat of the day.
The sun bares down against her, and while spreading them open would be the practical thing to do, her subconscious prevents Areane from doing so. The young pegasus keeps glancing about, taking in the jagged rocks and the unfamiliar lay of the land, and associating this place with loss. It had arrived not long after Loess had sunk; her home had been traded for a place (that seemed) nobody called home at all.
It seemed a waste to her, and yet at the same time, Areane wondered who she was to contemplate the rising and falling of empires. She was barely past her third summer, and despite her father’s protestations, only newly-fledged from the family nest. It was only her and the sea, both churning in their own ways, until the sound of an approaching horse made her look away from the crashing waves. Everything about this place had seemed so gray - the overcast sky, the dull stone, even the ocean itself - until he arrived.
Whoever he was, he was a brilliant chestnut and brought a bright splash of color with him, even as he dived into the murky water. He looked at peace, and it helped put her own unrest with the Ruins at ease. Tarian had always encouraged her to be wary of strangers, and what he might have made of this one, she didn’t know. Areane only knew that she was curious, and eager for her first taste of company outside of her family.
"I like your flowers!" she calls out over the crashing waves to where the antlered stallion stood, hoping that it was the kind of thing one might say to another they found on an empty beach. Just in case it's not, Areane quickly adds against the whipping wind that tries to tangle her mane and reveals a few light blue spots on her forehead, "I sometimes get stuff caught in my mane when I land too fast. Twigs, leaves, and - " She was rambling again, and bit sharply down on her tongue, afraid she had already offended him.
"I mean, your flowers are much nicer than any of that," Areane says while high-stepping through the water, thinking that if there was any silver-lining of Loess sitting leagues below them, it was that she could never achieve Tarian's dream for his only daughter. She would have made a horrible diplomat.
The sun bares down against her, and while spreading them open would be the practical thing to do, her subconscious prevents Areane from doing so. The young pegasus keeps glancing about, taking in the jagged rocks and the unfamiliar lay of the land, and associating this place with loss. It had arrived not long after Loess had sunk; her home had been traded for a place (that seemed) nobody called home at all.
It seemed a waste to her, and yet at the same time, Areane wondered who she was to contemplate the rising and falling of empires. She was barely past her third summer, and despite her father’s protestations, only newly-fledged from the family nest. It was only her and the sea, both churning in their own ways, until the sound of an approaching horse made her look away from the crashing waves. Everything about this place had seemed so gray - the overcast sky, the dull stone, even the ocean itself - until he arrived.
Whoever he was, he was a brilliant chestnut and brought a bright splash of color with him, even as he dived into the murky water. He looked at peace, and it helped put her own unrest with the Ruins at ease. Tarian had always encouraged her to be wary of strangers, and what he might have made of this one, she didn’t know. Areane only knew that she was curious, and eager for her first taste of company outside of her family.
"I like your flowers!" she calls out over the crashing waves to where the antlered stallion stood, hoping that it was the kind of thing one might say to another they found on an empty beach. Just in case it's not, Areane quickly adds against the whipping wind that tries to tangle her mane and reveals a few light blue spots on her forehead, "I sometimes get stuff caught in my mane when I land too fast. Twigs, leaves, and - " She was rambling again, and bit sharply down on her tongue, afraid she had already offended him.
"I mean, your flowers are much nicer than any of that," Areane says while high-stepping through the water, thinking that if there was any silver-lining of Loess sitting leagues below them, it was that she could never achieve Tarian's dream for his only daughter. She would have made a horrible diplomat.